


The Sun Behind Bars

by CelticRose, StardustSprinkler



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (Cartoon 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Blood and Violence, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Smut, all characters are 18+, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticRose/pseuds/CelticRose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustSprinkler/pseuds/StardustSprinkler
Summary: Lydia didn't think being in prison was gonna be the least of her worries. Cold-blooded murder, arson, marriage...none of these were on her radar until a certain demonic poltergeist strolled past her cell.
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! This is a collaborative work between me, as Beetlejuice, and CelticRose, as Lydia. As this is a work in progress, the storyline may change or end abruptly. Please enjoy!

The morning sky was just beginning to boast streaks of light and pastel hues when Beetlejuice finally bothered to venture outside for the first time in a week. Lying supine on a prison yard table, he tried to remember what freedom tasted like. He had escaped yet again to the world of the living...just to get trapped haunting this shit hole. For forty-three years now. Forty-three years, four months, 6 days, and ten minutes, if we’re counting.

No breather could fucking see him and none of the goddamn useless _hundreds_ of other ghosts here were any fucking help.

Serving a term of haunting, trapped in a prison? Little on the nose there, Juno.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia couldn’t bring herself to care as she was ushered past the heavily armored doors. What kind of justice was this? Bullshit. She had always heard stories of victims taking the fall, but she hadn’t wanted to believe it could happen to her. Well—surprise, surprise—she was living it now. A sudden snap of fingers of her face and gesture to step forward put the nearest guard on Lydia’s shit list.

“I’m not fucking deaf. You could have just said something.”

“Watch that attitude in here, little lady. You’re gonna be in here for a long time after what you did. Better come to terms with it.”

The guard sneered, pushing her into the cell and removing her cuffs. She huffed, walking in and looking around as she muttered to herself, “Welcome home, Deetz.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Now, in the past, Beetlejuice used to be present every time a new busload of bitches got dropped off. Try ‘n get them to scream, or feel a chill, or share a damn cigarette with him. Nothin’ doing. Honestly at this point, it just pissed him the fuck off.

A long time had gone by since he heard the screech of the bus’ breaks from his seat in the yard. Lighting a fresh cig, he meandered around the building for a bit, trying to keep the boredom at bay. (Tormenting ghosts could sometimes be as entertaining as fucking with breathers.)

Finally, he decided to check out the new meat.

He strolled past cell after cell, chain smoking as he went. This haul did _not_ look promising. Some brainless, some almost elderly, some nearly comatose with denial. Seriously? This was what he had to work with?

Something caught his eye about halfway down one hall. “Holy fuckin’ shit, aren’t you just my type, lil girl.” He stood leaning against the bars, taking a slow drag while he took in the view. That shitty jumpsuit couldn’t hide how skinny she was, how long her legs were, how pale her skin was.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She wandered over to the single window (reinforced and barred, of course), stretching up to get her first glimpse of the yard. It was empty, save for a single man lying on one of the tables. Wait, a man? Fucking shit. This was supposed to be an all-women’s prison, one of the few upsides of this hell hole. But he wasn’t wearing the hideous orange or khaki that she had briefly seen on the others. No... he was wearing black and white stripes, much like one would see on a prisoner in an old movie. Great, it was probably a fucking ghost. The place was fucking haunted. Just her luck.

Unfortunately, she was forced to go through a good portion of her first day with intake activities, then shoved back into her cell like a caged animal. Of course, that was exactly what she was in here. She had contented herself with sitting in the corner, debating on whether or not to lose her mind when she heard his voice. “Ugh, can’t escape shitty catcalls, even in lifetime lock-up. Just what I fucking wanted.” She hissed, looking directly at him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Eh, more like a straight up propositi—” Hold up a minute. No way she could...? Alright, how much coke had he done this morning?

“Well, I know ya ain’t talking ta me, babes. Wish ya were. Don’t know who’s harassing ya, but I’d give them a run for their money,” he flashed a row of sharp teeth.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“If I’m not talking to you, then who the hell am I talking to?” She gestured to the empty air behind him as she pushed herself to stand. “Look, I’ve been here before. You’re dead, right? Want my help passing along a message to your wife or something? Well, I need my own help now. If you would fuck off, that would be great.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

The cig dropped from between his fingers at the same time his eyebrows hit his hairline. She really could...see him? He felt laughter rumble through his chest before it got louder, louder, louder, then straight-up maniacal.

“Ya need help? Well, babes, why didn’t ya say so!” With a snap, he was behind her with his his lips right next to her ear. “Think of me like ya own personal genie...except ya gotta rub me a lot longer.” He nipped at her earlobe before appearing sprawled out on her cot.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She rolled her eyes. “Great. A dead, crazy, man. Aren’t you _exactly_ what I’ve been looking for?” She remarked sarcastically through the laughter. She stalked towards the bars, looking up at him with a little glare, only to have him disappear and reappear right behind her. She tensed, turning to slap him, only to end up with her hand whipping through thin air. “Fuck—” she muttered, eyes scanning the cell to find him on her cot. “Get. The fuck. Out.” She hissed through gritted teeth.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He crossed one leg over the other knee and idly bounced it as he waved her off. “Hold up, girlie. We’re just gettin’ acquainted. Whatcha in for?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Why do you want to know?” She asked coldly, accepting the fact that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. After a cursory glance around that revealed no one was paying any attention to her, she lowered herself to sit on the vacant cot across the room. “I killed a guy. Short story, no regrets.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“’Why?’ I gotta know who I’m workin’ with, kid,” he said, pointlessly buffing his nails against his grimy, fraying jacket. At Lydia’s revelation, the demon bolted upright, “Ya kiddin’ me? A little thing like _you_?” He appeared next to her suddenly, “Tell. Me. _Everything_.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She stood as soon as he was beside her, moving to the other side of the room to put space between them. She understandably had trust issues, and her cold gaze told him that she didn’t want him any closer. “He thought me having a few drinks meant he could shove his cock in me even when I said no. So he’s dead now, and I’m fucking stuck here. Dealing with you. Woo.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His upper lip curled. “Rapist, huh? ‘V always had fun killing that particular type a’ breather.” Pulling a new cigarette out of the ether, he let his signature slimy grin return. “Everyone’s gotta go sometime, right? What’s the harm if I just sped up their deadline?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“That’s not gonna convince me to help you,” she sneered, ever on guard. “I’m sure you’re a national hero, asshole.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Woah, slow ya roll there, babes. I’m just saying, we’re sympatico! Ya killed one guy, I’ve killed thousands... Hermana e hermano!” He gestured between theme somewhat frantically, chomping at the bit to make a connection with this girl.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“You did it for fun! _I_ did it because I’m TIRED of people thinking they can fucking take what they want from me. I’m small, I’m female! You think that makes me an easy mark or something?!?” She exploded, anger radiating off every inch of her as she spat at him, “Think again.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Standing up, he took a few steps forward, but not enough to invade her space. He imitated the sound of a buzzer, “Wrongo, my dear. I’m willing ta strike a deal with ya only cause ya got something,” he said with a cloying tone. “There’s not a particular word for it. It’s a veritable fuckwad of rage, bitterness, suffering, and the insurmountable need to get. Fucking. Even.”

He held up his hands before she could interrupt, “Before ya ask, ‘Why would I need ya?’ Or ‘What type of deal?” Or ‘How do ya look so handsome as an undead guy?’ Lemme finish.”

“Ya said it yerself. Ya tiny,” he gestured at her broadly. “Ya tired of people taking what they want? Newsflash kiddo, that doesn’t happen _less_ in prison.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She had opened her mouth to speak, to ask the exact question he had stated, but quickly closed it with a little glower. She settled for crossing her arms over her chest and hearing him spit a pitch. She wouldn’t agree, but the idea was entertaining.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He leaned his back against the bars, jerking a thumb in the direction of the general cell block. “Things are gonna be even worse out there. And don’t for a second go thinking that just because ya fellow inmates don’t have cocks, that that means ya outta the woods on that front.”

“Ya need a lil protection. Some firepower. Someone in ya corner. More than happy to be that for ya, babe.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Fuck him, he was right. Way more opponents, most of them dangerous, and the guards all probably turn a blind eye. Her expression glazed over as she realized the truth behind his words. But she quickly shook away the funk, looking up at him defiantly. “One problem, _O great and mighty_. How the fuck are you gonna protect me of no one can see you? And for that matter, what would you want? I’m not stupid enough to think all of this comes for free.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He watched as he lost her for a second, poor thing was clearly disassociating. Oof, what happened there? Oop, she’s back again. “Of course not! It’s a deal, a give n’ take. But this ain’t gonna cost ya shit, really. I’m stuck in this shithole until someone says three, little, words.” He appeared on the other side of the bars now, shaking against them comically. “All ya gotta do, babes, is say my name.”

Then, once again, he appeared behind her, breath on her neck, gravely voice in her ear, “Just say my name three times, kitten.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Just three words?” She smirked. “Now that’s a new one, even for me. Aren’t most ghosts bound by unfinished business or some shit?” She reluctantly turned her back on him, walking over to sit on the small cot, pausing when she heard his voice shift again. Her head turned, seeing him outside of the bars again. “Your name? You just want me to say your name?” She frowned. “What did _you_ do to get trapped here anyway?” Every muscle in her body tensed up at his closeness, a lump building in her throat to keep her from breathing. Too close. She practically ran across the cell, pressing her back against the wall, her expression somewhere between crazed and terrified. “I’m not your kitten. Get away from me.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He hands shot up in a vulnerable gesture, “Hey, hey, easy kid! Okay, ya want some space. I getcha.” He relocated outside the bars again. It occurred to him it would be a good idea to let the conversation topic shift from her to him. Give her a second to breath and convince herself he wasn’t a threat. To her, anyways.

“Now as for ‘most ghosts,’ there ain’t _nobody_ like me babe. Think of me as the ghost with the most. Got no limits when I’m loose. Really more of a demon, poltergeist, bio-exorcist, whatever ya wanna fuckin’ call me. Not sure one title covers it. I’ve had different names dating all the back to... Jesus, I don’t fucking know—when was Mesopotamia a thing again?”

Stamping out his cigarette, he lit a new one. “Want one? As for what I did, it was nothing really. Just a minor, incredibly contagious disease that I let loose on Europe. Barely deadly, mostly wiped out people in northern France. I was bored, what did they want from me??”

“So the stiff pencil-pushers stuck me in here for a few decades. Not the worst I’ve gotten by a long shot.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Involuntary tears prickled behind her eyelids, her heart racing in terror. No... no, he wasn’t here. She wasn’t in immediate danger. She needed to calm down—just calm down— _calm the fuck down already!_ She listened half-heartedly to his spiel, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are-are you saying that you caused the plague? That’s... That’s ridiculous. That was hundreds of years ago... Unless you’re talking about something else. Not exactly big on my history.” She found that concentrating on something else helped, her mind becoming less foggy by the minute. “At least you’ll get out eventually.” She muttered, carefully taking a few steps forward for the offered cigarette. “They’re still deliberating things, but it’s looking like they want to keep me locked up in here for the rest of my life. Either that or I’ll be a fucking senior citizen by the time I get out. My whole life, gone because of one night.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He cackled when she brought up the Black Plague, “So ya know my work! Yeah no, that one was a while ago, the Dark Ages were my fuckin’ heyday, swear to Satan. The shit that got me here was small potatoes, probably barely made the news with all the shit goin’ on.” He winked as he passed her the cigarette through the bars, only stepping as close as necessary. He made a diminutive gesture with his forefinger and thumb, “Just a lil, mini, baby plague. Don’t even know how I got caught this time,” he grumbled.

“Well let me loose n’ I’ll go all bodyguard on ya. Give me freedom, and I can getcha immortality. Maybe I’ll even throw in a bust outta prison bonus.”

He once again held up his hand to silence her, “But tch, tch, tch, one deal at a time, babes. Gotta keep ya wantin’ more n’ all that.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She had to admit, it was tempting. She brought the cigarette up to her lips, taking a long drag and sighing in a form or relief. She hadn’t had a cigarette since before they arrested her. It was nice... something familiar. Something she had control over instead of her new rigidly scheduled days. “Thanks.” She muttered out of habit. She hadn’t been a bad person before this. Sure, she was a little odd, always on the outskirts of what was considered normal or popular, but she was smart. She had a promising career as a freelance photographer, until one stupid party she hadn’t even wanted to go to ruined it all. “I’m not sure.” She admitted. “Apparently my trust isn’t the best judge of character.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He could feel his frustration start to boil over, “What’s not to be sure about? I keep ya safe, I get my powers. Honey, there’ll be nothing I can’t do at that point.” The desperation was clawing at his throat now, a slight twitch pulling at one side of his mouth.

“Protection goes beyond not gettin’ shivved, babes. Ya my business partner, so taking care of ya is part of the package.” He started to rapidly roll his wrist, a new item appearing in his palm with each rotation. “Whatever ya need, cigs, books, porn—ya name something contraband, ya got it.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Exactly. What proof do I have that the moment you’re free, you don’t turn on me?” She turned to him. “I want concrete proof that you’ll do what you say before I go into business with you.” She half shrugged. “I just met you, after all.” Her gaze was fixed on the rapidly appearing and disappearing items, trying and failing to hide her fascination. Okay, so he wasn’t lying about that part... He definitely had more powers than other ghosts.

“There’s a locket that they confiscated from me. Get it for me. And I _will_ know if it’s the wrong one. You get that for me, you’ve got a deal.” She hadn’t been without that locket since the day she lost her mother and being without it all this time had left her broken-hearted. She wouldn’t wear it, she wasn’t that stupid, but to be able to hold it again, see the photos inside... That would mean the world to her. “So? What do you say? Are we going to do this?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Fuckin’ bingo. “Ya got it, babes! Be right back!” He went to raise his fingers for a snap, but paused. “Let’s getcha takin’ care of first, huh?” With a flick of his wrist and a mild grunt, a slab of the cynderblock wall underneath her hanging cot slid back. “Gotta have somewhere ta keep ya contra’. Literally just bored through ya wall. Guards won’t even clock it as a possibility. Close it when ya want. N’ take these, call it a signing bonus.” He tossed her a matchbox and two packs of lights and, just like that, he was gone.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She reached out, nearly falling over to catch her signing bonus before it hit the floor. Nobody ever said she was athletic, and there was reason behind it. She ducked under the cot, placing the cigarettes in her new hiding place. “Hmm. Maybe you will come through after all, asshole,” she murmured to no one in particular.

For the first time in months, she found herself excited. Sure, she’d probably be releasing a demon on the earth or something like that, but she’d have her necklace back! She’d have something to pull her through the long years in lockup. Honestly that was one of the worst things about this whole situation, the idea that her last remaining thread to her mother would be severed.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice was out of his mind ecstatic, on par with that failed attempt to simultaneously do coke, oxy, and x. For god’s sake, he was rubbing his hands together like a fuckin’ cartoon villain. This gig couldn’t get any easier. He strolled through front offices of the penitentiary, past where poor suckers get admitted. Storage, storage, storage. C’mon, where the fuck were they keeping shit back here? He did a double-take at a particular door. Bingo.

He began sifting through the alphabetized sections, “Personal affects A through D, E through—— motherfucker!!” He popped into existence back in little no-name’s cell. “Yeah, little tip, might help if ya _told me ya name_.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked up from the floor as she crawled out from under the cot. “Oh! Deetz. Lydia.” She muttered. How many times had she learned from her mother to never give her name to the dead? A name was a powerful thing... Case in point, this maniac was shackled on account of it. But in this situation, she deemed it necessary.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Lydia, huh? Makes sense. Ya gotta ‘cute, but diabolical’ vibe. Suits ya.” With that, he reappeared in the storage room.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Diabolical? What about her gave off diabolical vibes? Resting bitch face, sure, but that was purposefully honed. She plopped down on her little cot, thinking over their interaction to find the reason why he—fuck, what did it matter? Hurry up already.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He went back to rummaging through the junk, “D, De, Dea? Det? DEETZ! Fuckin’ finally. Let’s see. Locket, sure, but what else?” So he was a nosy bastard, sue him. “Couple a’ photographs... mostly empty wallet...street clothes—jackpot!”

A clawed hand snagged onto a pink and black striped pair of panties. Quickly stuffing those in his jacket pocket, he grabbed the locket, slammed the drawer, and evaporated.

He popped into her cell, yelling, “Deal’s a deal, sweetheart. Here’s ya necklace!” He dropped it in her hand before stepping back and taking a ceremonious bow.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia hopped up a bit too eagerly at the sight of him, her hands reaching out to quickly accept the golden trinket. She looked it over multiple times, the familiar scratches on the back of the pendant and two photos inside. “Oh my god. You really got it. _Holy shit,_ I could kiss you right now! You know... If it weren’t for the beetle in your teeth right there.” She attempted a small tease. “Okay. Deals a deal. You’re right. So... what’s your name?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Geez, his lil’ spitfire really lit up. He’d never had somethin’ that meant anything to him, he could always just get anything he wanted himself. Humans were weird as shit.

He grinned at the joke, “C’mon baby, don’t let stop ya! A lil’ sugar never hurt to seal a deal.” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he leaned forward slightly.

“Ah, that’s the thing, toots. Can’t tell ya my name."

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smirked lightly, holding the precious locket close to her heart. She had to hide that little sparkle in her eye. “Fine, perv. One.” She placed a quick peck on his cheek. “Now that is ALL you are getting from me, so enjoy it.” She moved over to place the locket in her pillowcase, glancing over her shoulder. “So, how do we do this then? Charades? Pen and Paper?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His smirk was big enough to split his face, “Sure, sure, we’ll see how long you can resist _this_.” He rolled his hips, clearly trying to get her laugh. “Na, can’t write it myself either. Looks like ya got yaself a game of charades!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She couldn’t help a girlish giggle at the sight of his attempt at seduction. Maybe he wasn’t so bad... “Okay, charades! Do we just need your first name? Or first and last?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He tapped his arm with two fingers, indicating two words, before he held up his index finger. First word. A beat. He snapped then pointed excitedly from his teeth to her, trying to reference her earlier joke.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked at him, concentration on her face. Two words. Okay. First word. Wait, why was he pointing between them? “Uh... deal? No. Um... acquaintance. Help?” His teeth. “Teeth? Toothbrush? oh. OH! Oh! Beetle?!?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Putting one finger on his nose, he pointed at her with his other hand. He mimed clapping for her. Then tapped his arm again before holding up to fingers. He imitated drinking from a glass and racked his brain for specificity.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oh! Um... okay, drink? No. No not drink. Glass? Water? Beer? Juice?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He nearly shrieked when she said ‘juice.’ “Ya fuckin’ got it babe!!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“I- I did?” despite herself, she smiled, caught up in the excitement of the moment. “I got it?” An excited laugh escaped her. “Fuck yeah! Okay... okay, so it’s- it’s Beetlejuice, right?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He grabbed her hand and held it above their heads like she won a championship fight. “ _This fuckin’ genius_! Just give it to me three times, baby!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She giggled, taking her hand back and looking up at him with an expression that was happier than she had any right to feel. She had let herself get caught up in the moment. “Three times. Okay. I can do that. Beetlejuice…Beetlejuice…” She paused to take a step back, just in case he blew the roof off the place when she released him. “ _Beetlejuice_.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His blood sang at the first try, roaring in his ears like a torrent. Something like electricity built in his chest and hands at the second. But the third. The third time was the fucking charm.

A wave of green smoke poured across the cell and breached the hallway, all the lights in the penitentiary flickered, lightning flashed outside, the ground rumbled— With a cackle, he felt a bolt go through him. “I’m fucking back, baby!”

With a quick succession of snaps, he set fire to the entire kitchen, burst the pipes in the front offices, and set several cell blocks free. He practically crowed, “God I’ve been wanting to do shit like that for _years_.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia was frozen in place by the sudden chaos. Fuck. Had she done the exact thing she wasn’t supposed to do? That was when she noticed the door to her cell opening. YES! She quickly made a trip to her cot to grab her locket, stuffing it in her bra before making a run for it. “Come on... come on!” She hissed, looking for her first opening to get out.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Wait, wait, wait, babes! Look, I’m powerful n’ shit again, but I’m still stuck here. I can’t getcha out just yet. If ya make a run for it and get caught—that’ll be on you.”

He called after her, hoping to get her to reconsider. Actually, what the fuck did he care? Go get caught, it’ll be fun to watch. He’d just strike the deal later.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She froze, his voice somehow cutting through all the chaos. Fuck, why did he have to be right? She turned, stalking back towards him. “What do you have to do to get out? To get both of us out of this hell hole?” Would she do what was necessary for that? She doubted it. Something like that might take a fucking blood sacrifice for all she knew. But she wanted out of here.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He wasn’t supposed to show his hand this early. She needed to see him in action. He had to get her to trust him. How the hell else is this gonna happen??

Time for a little sleight of hand, something distracting. “Look, babes, don’t worry ya pretty lil’ head about that right now. We’ll seal that later, one deal at a time remember? Ya gotta see I’m worth my mettle right?”

He slid an arm around her shoulder and meandered down the hallway with her, dodging other, much more frantic inmates. “Give me a week. Ta show ya I’ll make good on my deal, see if ya like doing business.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She stared at him, doubt in her expression. Sure he had proved himself with the locket, but now what? “How do I know you aren’t lying? Huh? What if you get the hell out of here while I’m asleep? I don’t have any pretenses of loyalty.” A week. A week wasn’t too long. And it would give her time to think things over. If he wasn’t lying.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He pulled away and crossed his arms, shooting her a deadpan look. “So, lemme get this straight. Ya don’t know if I’m lying. Ya don’t know if I’ll stick around, hold up my end of the deal. And ya fuckin’ bright idea is strike _another_ deal with me right off the bat.”

“Babes. Toots. Doll. Sweetcheeks. C’mon, ya better than that. Just try me out for a week. Any way ya want,” he drawled out salaciously.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She crossed her arms, avoiding his gaze like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Okay... maybe she hadn’t thought all of this out. “I don’t want to feel trapped any longer than I have to.” She frowned. “It’s bullshit, you know... I’m sure you know the feeling.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He put his hands in his pockets and took a turn into a different corridor, motioning with his hand for her to follow. “Girl, stick with me and ya ticket outta here is immortality. What’s a week? Now c’mon I got an idea.”

He lead her down a series of hallways until they stood outside the jail’s library. With a flick of his wrist, the lock clicked and the doors flew open.

“Nobody’s making a run for this place. Go nuts. Grab whatcha want and we’ll take it back. Ain’t gonna get another chance to bring this shit back to ya room.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She followed behind him, frowning softly. “And if immortality isn’t my thing?” She looked up him, wide eyed with surprise. The library? How did he know...? She walked Past the doors, beginning to browse the shelves. “Fine. I can give it a week, I guess.” She muttered, pulling a few books down and piling them in her arms, a small smile crossing her face.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He looked over his shoulder, feigning nonchalance, “Do you wanna be free? It’s part of the package babe. That’ll be _your_ call.”

Yep. Called it. Babes was a bookworm. How’s that for a distraction?

“Course you can! Ya get to kick back and rake in rewards for a few days, what’s not to like?” He summoned a beer bottle, popped off the cap, sat at one of the nearby tables, and kicked his dirty boots up.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Immortality and freedom. Must come at a hefty price.” She commented, glancing at him through a gap in the books. “What sort of price would I be paying for something like that? Because let me tell ya, it’s gonna be hard to get a weapon in here if we’re sacrificing someone on an altar.” She teased. “Actually, the altar too now that I think about it—”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Holy fuckin’ shit, she was not letting this shit _go_. He started rubbing his temples with one hand, feeling his hair streak red as he inhaled sharply.

“Lyds,” he ground out, “I. Said. One. Deal. At. A. Time.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Sorry. Sorry. Bad jokes.” She muttered, noticing his discomfort. “I uh... I appreciate this. The library trip. I really do.” Her voice was soft, an odd warmth to it. She didn’t speak again, silently wandering the aisles and browsing the book selection.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“No problem, babes. Perks, pro bono. Ya go browse, gimme two minutes. I gotta get some air,” with a snap, he was in a lawn chair on the roof with a fresh beer in hand. He threw one hand straight towards the sky with a twist of his claws and a loud grunt. A car dealership in the city down the hill exploded like it was packed with C4.

The twitch under his eye subsided. Playing nice was gonna drive him fuckin’ nuts. A laugh did manage to force its way out of his throught after he polished off his drink and threw the bottle off the roof. He could see the lights of emergency vehicles starting up throughout the streets. Good luck with recovering any unlucky sunofabitch that had been working late.

With a sigh and a pointless brush-down of his filthy jacket, he materialized next to Lydia, “Miss me?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She took a breath when he was gone, able to think straight for more than ten seconds. She found a remote corner, hidden from most of the rest of the library, settling down on the floor and opening one of the books. She had the same one on her bookshelf at home, half read. She had just wanted to stay home and read on that horrible night, but instead her roommate had dragged her out to that fucking party. She swiped at the stubborn tears in her eyes, watching the words blur on the page. Why had it all gone so wrong? She didn’t even act afraid when he reappeared, looking over at him quietly. “Have fun? I’m sure that loud banging was you doing something.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He nudged her shoulder with his, “Got me pegged, babes. Well, actually, I _am_ open to—nevermind, not important right now.”

“Got all the books ya want?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She let out a watery chuckle at his half proposition. “Sorry to say, but I can be a bit of a pillow princess.” She teased, mainly to deflect attention from the tears in her eyes. “Yeah. I’ve got enough for a few days, I think.” She murmured softly, gathering them up in her arms. “If not, well, I’m sure you’ll find other ways to keep me entertained.” She teased.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He saw the tear tracks on her cheeks, but said nothing. What could he have said? His job was mayhem, his vocation was suffering, his calling was causing the near-apocalyptic collapse of society. Comfort? Not his shtick.

Beetlejuice let out an exaggerated gasp and clutched at his tie. “Lyds, say it ain’t so! No love for kinks?” A beat passed before he leaned forward, meeting her gaze head on, “Lucky for you, I know how to spoil a lady.”

With a snap, all chosen books were tucked safely away in her cell. “Oh babes...ya got no idea,” he said, with lecherous gleam in his eye.

He held his arm out for her to hold, “Now c’mon let’s see what we can nab in the kitchen. Yknow, whatever’s not currently on fire.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“I never said I didn’t like kinks,” she cocked an eyebrow in response and chuckled. “Just that I’m not much of one for pegging, since someone mentioned it. Now if I get tied up? Spanking? That’s some of the _good_ _shit_.”

“Though being spoiled? I don’t think that’s something I could say no to.” She stood up, looking at his arm for a moment before taking it. The kitchen? Why the hell not. Something to eat sounded close to heaven right now.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day started with a roll call to prep for breakfast. The incessant slap of a guard’s club against metal bars was answered with pained groans from the inmates. Shouts for prisoners to stand at the front of their cells ran along the corridors. It was an ungodly hour, but Beetlejuice was used to the racket at this point. Plus, he never fuckin’ slept anyway.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia was among those groans, having been awake most of the night. She hasn’t been getting much sleep lately anyway. She swung her legs over the edge of her cot, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Great, she was still stuck in this waking nightmare. The shouts from guards only served to make her glare daggers at them before she stood and walked towards the Bars. “Do they always fucking yell, or is this just because of what happened last night?” She asked the open air, figuring he wasn’t too far away even if she couldn’t see him at the moment.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He floated by her cell, ‘laying down’ with his arms behind his head. “It’s same old, same old here. Every day.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She just scowled, staring straight ahead as the bars swung open with a loud buzzer. Stepping out, she fell into the line of similarly annoyed prisoners. So this was to be the rest of her life. Fucking hell.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Leaning on the shoulder of a nearby guard, completely unnoticed by him, Beetlejuice lit up a fresh joint and took a hit. “Remember babes, could just be six days~” he finished off on a sing-song note.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her eyes flashed to him angrily. She might have shown some weakness the previous night, but whatever softness there had been was clearly evaporated. The only reason she had been so off guard was the fact he had treated her like a person, something that hadn’t happened in months. But not anymore. She wanted to hiss every insult in the book at him, but one look at the guard’s face said it would only get her in more trouble.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oof, ya gettin’ feisty, babes? Come over here and bite me, why dontcha?

Before she could respond, she was whisked away down the hallway to breakfast, Beej slowly trailing behind.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She fisted her hands up, digging her nails into her palms in an effort to keep from yelling at the poltergeist. Thankfully, they were soon on the move. The smell of any food, even terrible prison food, was enough to make Lydia’s stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten much the night before, despite their chaos fueled trip to the kitchens. She had been far too interested in talking to her new business partner. Talking to someone had been oddly nice, even if he was an outright prick in the light of day. She was filed through the line, handed a tray, asked a few questions about what her food choices were, then left to her own devices. The funny thing about prison? It was like a deadly version of high school. Wherever she sat in this cafeteria was a risky gamble, one way or another.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice was perched on top of one of the sneeze-guard shelves, shoveling through a bowl of the quite frankly disgusting—just his style—scrambled eggs. This was about to get _good_. Well, for his entertainment anyway. It was gonna fuck his little bitch right over the barrel.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She tried to make her way to a small table along the outskirts of the room. It was miraculously unoccupied, and she sat down, quietly toying with the food on her plate. Her expression took on that glassy quality of the night before, not noticing when several others surrounded the table. “Hey. This is our table, so fuck off.” One of the women, easily twice her size, sneered. At her lack of attention, one of the others grabbed her tray and slid it off onto the floor, drawing her out of her reverie. “Seriously? What the fuck?!?” Lydia cried in outrage, standing up.

\----------------------------------------------------------

A second woman, only slightly leaner, cut in, “Hey Trix, isn’t this the crazy bitch next to ya?”

The response from the third party was quick, “Yeah, the psycho new meat. Guess the bitch is as spacy as she is crazy.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She shook her head, letting out a scoff. “Whatever.” She turned to try and walk away, only to be blocked by the second woman. “Where do you think you’re going, bitch? You still gotta pay for taking our seat.” She glared up at her. “It’s a fucking seat. What are you, a middle schooler? Have it, since I’m apparently not eating this morning.” She tried to push past the bigger woman, only to be grabbed and thrown back into the ring, stumbling and falling into the table.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The other women tried to appear nonchalant and busy while hiding the activities of their ringleader. Wouldn’t do to attract the attention of the guards.

The ape-like woman approached Lydia upon flipping open a switchblade from seemingly out of nowhere.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Fuck.” Lydia muttered, holding her head where it had hit the table. “Seriously? All this over a seat?” She pulled herself to stand up. “You’re fucking pathetic. If you th—” she quickly shut her mouth at the sight of a blade. Her eyes flashed to the last place she had seen him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He saw her eyes flick to him. He threw his dish against the wall behind him and grinned, pressing his palm behind his ear. Three times babes. Tell me you want me.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She glared, pissed at this whole situation. She was staring down the business end of a blade and he was gonna be a dick about it? “I swear to God, Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Bee—” She was cut off by a swift punch to the jaw, stumbling back from the sheer force. Being small was definitely a disadvantage in a fight like this.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oof!” Even across the room, he knew that had to hurt. Two and a half was close enough. He appeared as a barrier between the two ladies, visible to no one but them. Looking over at Lydia, he tossed her a quick, “I gotcha dollface, you can yell my name s’more later,” while cracking his knuckles.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She nodded, looking a bit dazed as a gash over her left eyebrow began to bleed. She reached up, pressing her hand to the wound. Fuck, must have hit her head on the table harder than she thought. “Get me out of this, and I might just take you up on that.” She muttered through gritted teeth.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He turned around, “For now, I gotta deal with tall, dark, n’ handsome over here.” A chipped, sharp, black nail gently ran from the woman’s Adam’s apple to her chin, “Little big ta be throwing around a tiny doll, huh?”

The inmate growled in rage and, with a quick shove, buried her switch into his side.

A sickening squelch cut through the air, but the poltergeist seemed unfazed. With a grunt, he threw a hand out and sent the woman sailing across the room. He pulled the blade out of his cadaverous flesh and examined it curiously, before pressing the blade against his tongue and licking the congealed, grey substance that passed for his blood.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia winced. Even for a dead guy, that had to hurt. She pushed herself into a standing position, giving the inmate a shaky smirk. “How rude of me, I forgot to introduce you. You see, this is Beej. He’s a good friend of mine, helps me out like your little posse here. With one. Big. Difference.” She chuckled darkly, watching anger and confusion swirl across the other woman’s face. “He’s dead.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Must be outta shape, ‘s been a while since somebody actually got a jump on me.” Despite the cavalier commentary, Beetlejuice seemed to be growing more gleeful every passing moment. A sickening smile stretched ear to ear as he worked some kinks out of his neck. “I’ve been _dying_ for this.”

He twisted to look at Lydia after her little speech, looking wild and manic, “Told ya kid! Got a fucking beast in ya corner.” He picked her up by the waist and set her on the table, “Enjoy the show, babes!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Have at it, big guy. Kill her for all I care.” She smirked, settling into her seat. She gave his hand a little smack for lingering on her waist too long. “Tit for tat. You want tit? Take care of that.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He growled and snapped at her lips playfully, if half-heartedly. There was a different reason his blood was singing in his ears now. With that he whipped the knife across the room, sticking in a random woman’s shoulder. He raised a hand and shifted his fingers like a puppeteer, forcing one bulky prisoner to flip a table onto his little target from earlier. He practically shrieked with glee as he heard some of “handsome’s” bones break upon impact.

He was ready to see a full-out riot.

Absentmindedly, he lifted the other hand to force a woman to punch the nearest bitch’s teeth loose. Already, the woman who’d gotten the sweet surprise of the knife had picked somebody to blame and was wrestling them to the floor, blade at their throat.

Chaos burst forth from every corner of the room. Prisoners were screaming, cursing, getting as bloody and raw as they could. The guards were doing any (violent) thing they could to subdue the inmates, screams and shouts echoed throughout the space.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She picked up a napkin from one of the abandoned trays on her table, using it to dab at the gash on her forehead. She was like the eye of the storm to any onlookers, just surveying the chaos. She begrudgingly admitted how right he was. This shit was fun to watch. Other people tearing each other limb from limb. She watched his motions and how they affected the ebb and flow of violence in the room, not enough guards to stop it all. Who could blame her if she cackled at the sight of a guard going down when another inmate kicked the shit out of his balls?

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice was loving. Every. Fucking. Minute. The sounds, the blood, the panic, the fucking mayhem. It couldn’t get any prettier. But then he heard it. Another sweet little sound. He whipped around midair, sight set on his little sexkitten.

Holy fuckin’ Satan, she was _enjoying_ it. Where had she been all his afterlife?

That’s when the blood on her face finally registered in his brain. Aw shit, he’d gotten sloppy, he’d let his client get hurt.

With a snap, they were both in the infirmary, with Lydia sitting on a bed and him leaning against a nearby wall. A nurse assured her that he’d be there soon as he strode pass her. Beetlejuice hooked a thumb in his direction, “As far as Nurse Ken here knows, you were put in here first thing. Ya never even made it to breakfast, poor thing. Means ya weren’t responsible for any riots though, so...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She caught his eye, grinning as she crooked a finger for him to come closer. But before she could say anything they were in the infirmary. She rolled her eyes, the moment lost once they weren’t surrounded by the glorious chaos that was the lunchroom riot. “It’s nothing, you know. Just looks bad cuz it’s a head wound.” Her tone was extra snarky, a tiny pout settled on her lips.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He chuckled and lit up a smoke at her response, “Ya show gratitude like a champ, sexy.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Well, I was getting ready to show gratitude before you brought me here.” She purred, purposefully making her voice sound seductive. If he was gonna drag her away from the fun, she would make her own fun by working him up.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He gagged on his exhale in surprise. After a coughing fit, he locked eyes with her again but remained where he was. “No time like the present, sweetcheeks. I take it ya know how to undo a belt?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oh no. The moments gone now.” She teased with a little pout. “You don’t have that boyishly maniacal gleam in your eye.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He snapped his finger and a flame appeared atop his foremost claw. “How’d ya feel about arson?”

Letting his eyes draw up and down her frame, he indulged himself in a few fantastical mental images of her helping him burn down a city in nothing but boots and a teddy.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Arson is always fun.” She sat up, intrigued. “But what would we be burning down?” She stood, sauntering over to him and lightly running her fingertips across his chest. “We could make a good team, you know.” She whispered seductively.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Couldn’t agree more babes. What’s gotcha feeling less skittish? My sheer masculine magnetism?” He grinned and flipped his cigarette, before offering her a smoke, right up against her pretty lips.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She accepted the offer, taking a slow drag. “All of that chaos, you at the center? Hard not to be affected by it.” She dared to let her fingertips drag downwards, pausing right above the waistband of his pants. “Don’t act like I didn’t see that look in your eyes. If I didn’t get hurt in there?” She leaned in, nipping at his ear before whispering, “You would be between my thighs right now.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He was just about giddy at the thought of that being a turn on for her. “Babes, darling, _that_ was nothing. Wait till I really get started,” he growled at her.

He grabbed her wandering wrist, managing to snarl, “Don’t start something ya can’t finish, babes. Less ya wanna wrap those pretty pink lips ‘round something other than my cigarette.”

He released her wrist, but pulled her flush against him, “I’m not gonna lie though, if ya weren’t bleeding… I woulda fucked ya raw right on that table.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She chuckled, pulling back and taking his cigarette with her. “Good to know we’re on the same page... and to think, you’re already dead. Save me the trouble of murdering you afterwards.” She joked, fully aware that people thought she was a monster for what she had done. No one believed her side of the story, not when it was the outcast up against the town’s golden boy. She took another long drag from the cigarette, passing it back to him when she heard footsteps coming nearer.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He just about cackled, “Sugartits, don’t worry ‘bout that. Only way ya get to fuck me is if you _beg for it_.” Fixing her with a lecherous stare, he took his cigarette back.

The rest of the day dragged on like a bitch, the riot having resulted in everyone being left in their cells or filling up the infirmary.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia was sent back to her cell with nothing much more than a little bandage on her forehead. She didn’t mind much, pulling from the stash of books she had gathered the night before and stretching out on her cot to read.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice had bid her adieu with a classy, “See ya in a bit, sugartits!” before teleporting to address a pressing problem of his. Pressing, specifically, against the zipper of his trousers. He had a few regular hook-up buddies from haunting this prison for decades on end. Right now, he was sitting pretty in the deserted prison yard with the ghost of a pretty ex-con going to town on him.

One set of his claws dug into her skull as he let out a ferocious grunt and promptly came down her throat.

“Thanks Alex, I owe ya’ one.” And with a wink, he was gone.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She had rolled her eyes at his little nickname. All the things in the world he could have called her, and he fucking picked ‘sugartits’? Pervert. Not that she didn’t know that of course, but it helped her make up her mind about him. She was, however, close to going mad by the end of the day. Fuck this cell! She couldn’t sit still much longer, pacing the floor endlessly. She was close to calling him just for the idea of a fuck to spice up her day. But no. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He startled her somewhat, upon materializing in her cell with a, “Hey, kitten.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She did jolt, nearly losing her balance at the sudden appearance. “Fuck! Don’t you ever knock or something? Give me a heads up!” She stalked past him to sit on the small cot, a scowl etched into her features.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He laughed and shook his head, “Yeah, lots of privacy here. Surprised ya didn’t hear me outside honestly. Where else was I gonna go after that?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Ugh, that was you?” She looked disgusted. “I thought it was one of the sleazy guards getting a blowie in exchange for some privilege or other that these bitches want.” She rested her head in her hands, toying with a strand of hair out of sheer boredom.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Rolling his eyes at her reaction, he said, “Sure, like you’d turn down someone eating your pussy right about now. But I’m gross, sure sure.”

“Oh, speaking of eating, whatcha hungry for babes? Forgot you breathers need food, that’s on me,” he said with a shrug.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Unless you’re offering...” she muttered under her breath, flipping back onto the cot. “See? That’s a rough question, because I’ve been between lock ups for months, and you gotta pass the time thinking about something. Food, in particular, was a very, _very_ long list. I swear, if you had offered me some Italian food with those fresh, warm breadsticks? I would have elbowed your little fuckbuddy in the face for a chance to show my gratitude.” She smirked, giving him a teasing look. “I’m sure a living girl’s a better fuck anyway. Warmer, at least.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He threw his head back with what can only be described as a guttural whine. “Fuckin hell babe, ya torturing me. But nah, food’s on the list of perks.” With a snap, there was a veritable smorgasbord of Italian food on the bottom half of her cot, fresh and steaming.

“The thing is, demons don’t _need_ to eat... but if ya don’t mind spreading your legs, I’ll help myself while ya do the same.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Holy fucking shit.” She muttered in awe, seeing all the food appear. It was anything and everything she could want to eat. She didn’t know where to start until her eyes landed on the aforementioned breadsticks. She let out a little squeak of delight, snatching one up and taking a bite. “Oh my god...” she moaned, looking practically orgasmic at the taste. It was exactly like she remembered, swallowing her first bite only to take another. “Hmm... is that a genuine offer? Or are you just trying to fuck with me?” She asked. After all... he had gotten her out of a tough bind that morning, put on quite a show, and provided the best meal she had seen in a while. It wouldn’t hurt to give him a little thank you...

\----------------------------------------------------------

His tongue darted out and he licked his lips slowly with hooded eyes, “Do I look like I’m kiddin’ babes? All ya gotta do is ask...I’ll have my tongue buried so deep in ya it’ll make your head spin.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She made a show of considering it. “Well... you _have_ been doing a very good job today...” She stood up, sauntering over and circling him like prey. Every now and then she would run fingertips along his body, just enough to tease, until one round she fisted her fingers in his hair, tugging lightly. “Alright... I guess you can have a little fun.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He was a second away from disappearing to take his problem into his own hands if she didn’t _pick a damn answer_ , but then he felt her hand in his hair and her whisper on his lips. With a snap, she was thrown onto her empty cot with her orange jumpsuit pooling on the other, next to her feast. Beetlejuice was on his knees like it was his damn job, straight up clawing at the waistband of her standard issue panties in his attempt to get to her.

Frustrated that it wasn’t moving fast enough, he slit the sides with his nails and tossed it onto the floor. He stretched her thighs open wide with his palms, her knees on either of his shoulders, and licked her lips without preamble.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She had noticed his growing irritation, unable to hide her little smirk that her plan was working. It was fun to get him all riled up, watch him squirm. But as soon as she gave him the go ahead, it was like releasing a caged animal. In the blink of an eye she was sitting on a cot with her legs spread, left only in her extremely unflattering underwear. Thankfully, those were gone soon too. That was when the fun really started, biting her lip hard to keep from being heard as his masterful tongue ran along the sensitive flesh.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was. So. Fucking. Warm. Almost like molten lava against his cool tongue. He pulled her to sit right on the edge of the cot and, with a snap, pillows piled up between her and the wall. His tongue flicked back and forth along her crease before he reached up to pull back her lips.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She followed his unspoken order to shift positions, a little bit of the old Lydia bleeding past her facade. Probably a good idea... if a demon (had he said he was a demon? He definitely had more power than a ghost. Her brain was far too gone to think straight at the moment) was going down on you, you listened to his orders. She leaned back against the pillows, sliding her fingers back into his hair as he continued his attentions. “Fuck, that’s good...” she muttered, letting her head fall back as she arched her hips closer to him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

A purr rumbled through his chest at the feel of her fingers tugging at his hair. Now normally he’d take his time, tease her until she broke. But this little babe had his blood boiling. He dragged his tongue up and down her cleft a couple of times before thrusting it in as deep as she’d let him at first. He could feel his eyes roll back at the very feeling of her. Wet, warm, soft, sweet, and tangy.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She couldn’t help the sounds that escaped her, soft little mewls and whimpers at each little teasing moment. Surprisingly, she was receptive to the attentions. She would have thought she would be afraid after what happened. Instead, she was like a woman starved, urging him on.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He gripped her hips desperately, pulling her as close to his face as physically possible. Perks of being a demon, you could elongate your tongue. He shifted enough to thicken it as well and ungulate it inside of her. He felt her stiffened clit with one thumb while the other rubbed circles on her thigh.

Seemed like his little kitten hadn’t gotten any in a while. Lucky for her, he was raring to have her cummin’ buckets. He slipped his tongue out of her just long enough to growl out a command to talk to him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was falling into the sensations, her mind allowing her for a brief time to forget her situation. She was just a regular girl again, a girl getting some of the best she had ever had. “Fuck, Beej—” she hissed through gritted teeth as he ran his thumb over her hypersensitive clit. “You keep that up and all the fun will be over before it even starts.” The feeling of his tongue thrusting into her was better than any cock she had ever had, be it real or a toy. “Shit! Yes... do that again, please! Please!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He slipped out again, just long enough for him to coat his thumb in her wetness before it continued circling her clit. He thrusted back inside her, desperate to taste her as soon as she creamed on his tongue. With that goal in mind, he redoubled his efforts, slicking back and forth inside of her like a man possessed.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She let out a high pitched keen, her hips jerking at the stimulation. “Fuck!”

Her hands tightened in his hair, tugging harder as he began to fuck her again with his tongue. Each movement drags her closer and closer to the edge. But she was missing something... “Scratch me.” She hissed to him, the feeling of his claws pressing into her soft flesh only urging her on.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Immediately, he complied. With one hand, he raked his nails across her lower back and forward, to the front of her hips. His tongue never paused, eating her out like a goddamn professional.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She let out a strangled scream, the combination of stinging pain and burning pleasure pushing her past her limit. Her inner walls clenched around his tongue, her thighs shaking on either side of his head. “Yes! Oh gods, yes!” She cried out

\----------------------------------------------------------

Fuckin’ hell below, _yes_. He felt her thighs clamp down on either side of his head, her body shaking, he walls pulling him in deeper.

And then, he tasted it. Thick and creamy on his tastebuds, he could drink that shit for days.

He continued to lap at her incessantly, not willing to give up the warmth of her just yet.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She felt like collapsing into a heap, wanting to purr like a satisfied kitten, but he wasn’t going to let her go that easily. “Fucking hell, Beej. You’re too good at this.” She purred, stroking her fingers through his hair.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He moaned as she began stroking him, snapping out of his lustful daze. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and grunted lightly as he stood up, adjusting himself. “Gonna wanna eat before that shit gets too cold, babes. Go nuts. I know I did,” he waggled his eyebrows at her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She slowly came down from the high, allowing herself a minute to lay on the cot to breathe. “Fucking right, you did. It was great, though. You’ve uh... you’ve definitely got some skills in that department.” She stood, walking over to the other cot, pulling her jumpsuit back on before sitting down to eat.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He wound a tongue around his thumb, never breaking eye contact. “Goddamn, right I do. Now eat. Imma go for round two with Alex.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smirked lightly. “Hey uh... thanks. For all this. Now go get some good head.” Digging into her food, she sighed in contentment. Good sex and good food, definitely a luxury she didn’t expect in prison.

\----------------------------------------------------------

It took about ten or so minutes, but soon Lydia could her Beetlejuice’s moans drifting through her window before ending with a sharp roar.

God it felt good to take the edge off. He knew she could hear him. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

\----------------------------------------------------------

As soon as he was gone, she tucked into her meal with abandon. The food was honestly amazing. It was exactly what she’d pictured when she mentioned it. Chicken carbonara, shrimp alfredo, lasagna—you fucking name it. She chuckled to herself, hearing him have a good time. Maybe next time she’d give him a little attention of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know if you’d like to read more!


	4. Chapter 4

Another day dawned and the call of the guards got everyone on their feet. Beetlejuice appeared in her cell as roll call started. “Feelin’ better, kitten? I can tell ya, ya pals from yesterday ain’t faring so good.” A sickening grin accompanied the update, his standard joint between his lips.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Morning call never found her in a good mood, but she was in a bit of a better mood than the day before. She chuckled darkly at his comment. “I’m feeling just fine, even better after hearing that. Sounded like you had fun last night, too.” She walked up to the bars, waiting to be released from the cell. “So, what are we talking here? Are they in the infirmary? Dead? Because I’m not helping those bitches if they died.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He chuckled and shrugged, “What can I say? I owed her two, then she went for broke. Surprised we didn’t break some tables out there. I did accidentally light a shed on fire.” He waved a hand through the air as if to communicate ‘minor deal.’

“Ya were right though,” he breathed on the back of her neck, “ya’re so much _warmer_. Hard not to think about.”

He took another hit of his joint, “Nah, I don’t need any new fuckin’ ghosts getting on my nerves. They’re just gonna be transferred somewhere for some more...intensive care.”

As the guard stole her attention, Beetlejuice, let his eyes roam over her body. God, what he wouldn’t do to have his hands on those tits. He’d seen how perfect the rest of her was, he just wanted to see _everything_.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She bit her lip against a smile, feeling cool breath on the back of her neck. “Are you saying you were thinking of me while fucking the poor girls brains out? My, I’m flattered. Tell me, was it thoughts of _me_ that made you cum?” She teased. The news that her previous tormentors wouldn’t be there today was definitely welcome. Meant she didn’t need to worry about getting decked in the face again. She was already left with a darkening bruise on her jaw from the day before. She was quickly distracted, however, forced into single file lines to head off to the cafeteria.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He pressed cool lips to her shoulder and pressed his hips against her ass so she could feel him. “Babygirl, I was just about ready to yell ya name. Don’t think I’ve been this hard in a century,” his rusty growl was cut short by the cell door rattling open.

The guard that pushed her in line did so with a covert slap to her ass. A shrill shriek cut through the air as he ‘accidentally’ sprained his ankle. At a ninty degree angle. Mysteriously.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She chuckled, sauntering away from him when the door opened. “Have fun with that, Beej.” She whispered over her shoulder. Her amusement took a momentary dip as the sleaze ball slapped her ass, but it was quickly replaced when the fucker got what he deserved. She glanced up at him, giving a seductive wink before she was ushered away.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Fucking hell, should he just put this place in lockdown and fuck her for the next five days? Shit, no, a week. He had a week to build up trust. No way in hades did this girl trust him enough to fucking _marry_ him right now.

He drifted behind the line, casually taking drags as they marched to breakfast. Hopefully someone tried to start shit again. Cause now he had one hell of a trigger finger.

The day passed by quickly enough; meals, time in the yard, etc. In other words, BJ was about to kill someone just to stir shit up.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia actually enjoyed the day, finding ways to keep him on edge. It was an entertaining, if dangerous, sport. However, the time in the yard was by far her favorite part of the day. Feeling the sun on her face, it was only a promise of freedom, hopefully someday soon. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a pretty redhead sit on a table beside her, and something told her this wasn’t another prisoner. She tried her hardest to ignore the spirit, not looking for any more trouble.

\----------------------------------------------------------

In one corner of the yard, there was a dice game centered around a full pack of cigarettes as the award. Beetlejuice was having fun fixing the dice, looking almost like a little kid playing pranks.

He glanced to where he last saw Lydia...huh?

\----------------------------------------------------------

She seemed like she was trying to ignore the ongoing monologue from the ghost beside her. “—come on! Doncha got plenty of livin’ guys around here for a bit a fun? Why you gotta—” She stood up quickly, fast enough to draw attention from the few inmates around her. She had to get inside, to get away from this.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beej caught her arm right before the entryway, “Everything okay babes? Alex wasn’t giving ya trouble, right?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked back at the spirit, noticing the desperate look on her face and sparing a minute of mercy. “Nah, she’s fine... just too hot out here. I’ll see you later, ‘k?” She pulled away, heading inside towards the library.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He blinked a few times as she brushed him off casually before turning his gaze back to the redhead. He raised an eyebrow, she shrugged. He jerked a thumb in the direction of a locked closet and she bounded across the yard to him. What the hell, he had time to kill.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia found herself back in her cell before she saw him again, glancing up in recognition before turning back to her book. “She’s jealous.” Was all she could murmur.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He was running his hands through mussed up hair after perching on the free cot. “Hm?” he muttered distractedly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Alex.” She stated for clarification. “She’s jealous.” The girl stretched out on the cot, holding her book above her head and not looking at him. “Thinks I’m stealing you away for some reason.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

For the second time that day, he blinked while his brain buffered. Oh. This was a joke? He chuckled and shrugged, “Ghost with the most, right? Got bitches crowding me.”

He wasn’t obsessing over this girl. She was his client. They had a deal. The fact that she was warm and delicious and petite and pale—etc—was just driving him out of his mind horny.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She closed her book, raising a single brow in skepticism. “She’s not happy that she isn’t your favorite plaything anymore. Apparently, according to her, that’s me.” She sat up, a little scowl in her face. “What I’m wondering, is when I went from client to plaything?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Genuine confusion crossed his face, “Wait, wha—hold on here—lemme figure this out. _I_ didn’t say anything about you. Called ya my client. Said I had to get back to ya. Dunno where she got her wires crossed.” His hands, which were raised in a vulnerable expression switched quickly to finger guns, “But if _you_ wanna make _me_ ya new favorite fucktoy, I would not be opposed, babygirl.”

“Nuff ‘juice ta go around,” he said with a sleazy wink.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She rolled her eyes. “Fuck her all you want, I don’t give a shit about that. But don’t get YOUR wires crossed. Just because I let you get in my pants doesn’t make me a plaything for you.” She felt like her chest was tight with bad memories, not wanting to feel vulnerable like that ever again. “You got that? I’m not your babygirl, not your kitten, not your babes. We’re a team in this bullshit.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He looked like a kid who just got all his toys taken away, but nodded in agreement and waved away the notion. “Loud n’ clear, Lyds. Just business. Yada, yada. We’re back on track.” He decided to shift the conversation to something more casual (his favorite fuckin’ move apparently).

“Speaking of business, check ya lil’ safe down there. Knife’s bout the most ya can get away with in a place like this, but it’s better than nothing,” he said, before quickly tacking on a disclaimer. “Please, for Satan’s sake, don’t carry it everywhere. You’ve seen the regular pat downs. Just try n’ anticipate when ya can get away with having it on ya.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Why do I need a knife?” She asked, kneeling down to check the hiding space. “I’m not planning on killing anyone else.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Ya don’t really need it when I’m just three words away, but I get the ‘I got this, leave me alone, wanna be prepared’ vibe offa ya for some reason,” he deadpanned.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She glared over at him, tempted to throw the knife at him for the briefest moment. “...Might as well be prepared, right? I’m not always gonna have a ghost to rely on. Eventually either I’ll get out, or you’ll get out, and I don’t have any delusions about you wanting to stick around.” She stood, nodding towards the window overlooking the yard where she knew Alex was. “Not with all the living girls who make her _and_ me look hideous.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He caught that look in her eye, “Look, Lyds, ya can throw it if ya wanna, it ain’t gonna hurt me. Getcha some practice,” he joked.

He brushed off her concerns, “Look I’m working on getting us both outta here. We’re on day two. Got a bit ta go.” Pausing a second to study her, he added. “And trust me babe, I’ve been around. They don’t make ‘em like you anymore.”

He leaned into her personal space, never dropping her gaze. “Ya like a perfect little gothic doll. Wouldn’t surprise me if ya said ya came to life in a Satanic ritual. Actually, fuck, that’d be super hot—”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden closeness, her gaze held by his like a magnet. But she quickly shook it off, determined not to be that trusting little girl anymore. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you say whatever you think I wanna hear, throw a few compliments out and think you’ll get in my pants. Go have another go ‘round the garden shed.” She brushed him off, crawling back onto her cot and laying down.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He rolled his eyes before plopping down on the empty cot and getting comfortable. “Na, think I’ll try n’ get some sleep. It’s been a few years, figure I should try it again.”

With his arms folded behind his head, he was ready to drift off before his eyes snapped open. “Oh, by the by, babes. Ya’ve made a couple of...metaphorical...propositions to me anyway. I don’t have to charm my way anywhere.” Then he winked. “It comes naturally.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She scoffed, facing the wall as she closed her eyes. He was right, but she wasn’t in the mood to admit that. So instead, she chose to ignore him and try to get some sleep. The bad part about prison was there was so much time and practically nothing to do.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Day three greeted Beetlejuice with just a _pounding_ ache over the entirety of his body. Aaaaand, just like that, he remembered why he didn’t sleep: rigor mortis. Any dead or undead entity could suffer from it and god _damn_ he had forgotten what a pain in the ass it was.

He stretched and slowly cracked his joints as the guards made their way down the corridors, shouting for roll call to start. He glanced at Lydia, a rumpled, sleep-deprived little mess huddled in a ball on her cot. Same as usual in that department.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia was awake before dawn, the sounds of activity from the yard filtering in. Apparently the other spirits were brave enough to roam when Beetlejuice was out of commission. She spent hours listening to them, the laughter and chatter less annoying than she would have let on. But all things come to an end, and when she same guard from the day before came limping through and shouting for her to get up, she did as ordered. She spared a glance for the ghost who had chosen to spend the night in her cell. “You look like shit.” She spoke without any preamble. “Didn’t sleep well?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Needing sleep seemed exhausting to him, ironically. Humans were so fucking fragile. “No better than you, apparently.” His attention was redirected when the guards started yelling about shower times. The cell block would be divided in sections and those would be given shifts in which to shower throughout the day.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of that. A shower was exactly what she needed to shake off everything that had been happening. To be honest, between the talk she had heard from other inmates and the idea that she had let a ghost go down on her, she was truly considering the idea that she had lost her mind. But every time she checked her hiding space and it still was full of things he had helped her procure, she had to admit it was all real.

\----------------------------------------------------------

As the nearest guard droned on, she revealed that Lydia’s section would go at noon. Until then, it was business as usual.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Ugh... of course she wouldn’t be lucky enough to be in the first group. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and peeking back at him. “Should I expect you trying to get another peek at noon, then?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He smirked, not bothering to get up. “If ya want me there to protect ya so bad babes, all ya gotta do is ask.” He pulled a dummy day planner out of thin air, flipped on a pair of glasses, and scanned the pages. “Hmmm I can fit ya in if ya schedule now.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I want you there for protection. But don’t touch me unless I ask for help, yeah?” She wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of him being there, but she had to admit it was handy to have him around. She was almost positive that if he hadn’t been in the cafeteria that day that she would be the one in intensive care right now.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Sure thing, Lyds. I can always scout local talent while ya do ya thing,” he said with a shrug and a slimy smile.

The door rattled open and the march to breakfast began. A few hours later, Lydia was finally getting handled a towel and a small chuck of ‘soap’ before being escorted to the showers. Beetlejuice lazily did a backstroke through the air next to her as she walked and sized up her fellow inmates in this section.

Nooot a lot of lookers. Just his shit luck.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia took a look around the showers, wrapped in her towel. At least they were stalls, affording some tiny bit of privacy. She wasn’t a fan of stripping down in front of everyone, always having been self-conscious of her body. She stepped into one of the empty stalls, removing her towel and hanging it over the designated hook between stalls. She caught his eye, glaring a bit as she covered her chest and turned into the stream of water.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Holy shit, sugar had a hell of a set. Pale as the rest of her, lookin’ like a soft lil’ handful with just perfect, light pink nipples.

She glared and turned from him, so he closed his eyes and tried to save that one in the memory bank. “How’s the water, Lyds? That stall looks like it might fit two, want some company?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Fuck off.” She whispered to him, determined to enjoy the warm water as she washed herself up. “You got plenty from me the other night. You wanna get your dick wet, do something for me or go find Alex.” She muttered, lathering up her hair with the soap.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort, before retorting, “Don’tcha mean that _you_ got plenty from _me_ babes?” At her dismissal, he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘could get my dick wet in that shower,’ before wandering off down the line of stalls. Towards the end, he found a particularly luscious little number (he must’ve missed somehow) with big hips and bright blue eyes. “Hellooo, nurse,” he whistled lowly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She frowned, feeling a looming presence behind her. With a roll of her eyes she muttered. “Didn’t I tell you to fuck off?” A hand grabbed her arm. “Ugh, what did I say about touching—” she turned, face going even more pale when she sees it isn’t Beetlejuice. “—me?” She squeaked.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The woman towering over her was trim and tall, with long brown hair and arms like tree trunks. She stretched herself across the entrance, cutting off any escape route. “Well lucky fucking me for finding a sexy lil’ bitch like this...”

She shoved Lydia against a side wall, and gripped her by the waist, fingers digging into the scratches Beej had left, which were still healing.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She glared. “Look, you can let me go right now and walk away just fine. Or I can call my business partner and you can end up like the last bitch who tried to fuck with me. Your choice.” Before she knew it, she was shoved against the wall, a scream of pain ripping itself from her as fingers ran over the sensitive scratches. “Bee!” She called, not even trying to make a secret of it.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The woman cut off her scream by slamming her lips against those of the girl slightly shaking below her. One hand twisted itself around a chunk of raven hair and knocked her head back against the wall before the other pushed its way between her thighs.

Beej snapped out of his lusty stupor when he heard Lydia’s cry. He popped into existence outside her stall with his thumbs hooked in his pants pockets and a, “Changed ya mind, ba—” before processing what he saw.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She struggled, scratching at the other woman’s face and kicking the best she could, but her head hit the wall with a sickening crack that left her dizzy and off balance. “N-no...” she struggled, clamping her thighs together tightly. “Beetlejuice, goddamn it.” She muttered, the words feeling thick as molasses on her tongue. The water began to run red, her head pounding painfully, thoughts evading her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

With a savage snarl, he grabbed the woman by the arm and slammed her face-first against the opposite side of the shower stall, arm twisting with a crunch behind her back. She let out a scream before Beej gagged her with his hand. “Now I _know_ ya ain’t pulling some shit with my little lady here.

Standing underneath the shower hose, water drenching his striped suit, huffing despite having no need to breath, crazed look in his eyes...he looked like a feral animal.

Spinning her around by the shoulder, he threw a punch that knocked a few teeth loose. (Sweet Satan, he had missed that.) He was unaware of the repetition, continuing to strike her again and again mindlessly, filled with rage.

\----------------------------------------------------------

As soon as the arms keeping her pressed against the wall were gone, Lydia’s legs gave out on her. Her expression glazed over as she took in sobbing breaths, her mind shutting down entirely in an attempt to protect her. She vaguely heard his voice and a scream. She knew from the lack of hands on her body that he was doing what he had promised by protecting her. The sound of punches reached her ears, but still nothing. Shakily, she raised a hand to the back of her head, pulling back to see red on her fingers. She was gonna die in this fucking prison if it kept up like this...

\----------------------------------------------------------

A sharp, broken whimper behind him drew him back into reality. He tossed his victim onto the tiles outside the stall amongst steadily growing chatter about what the fuck was happening. He whirled around to find a disassociating Lydia with a bloodily rivulets running down her body, but his eyes couldn’t discern the source.

His face fell and his motionless heart broke. He pulled her up gently, wrapped her carefully in her towel, and transported them to her cell.

He held her in his lap, slowly rocking and shushing her, hoping to calm her down. To bring her back into her body.

\----------------------------------------------------------

As soon as she was in his arms, the sobbing began. She couldn’t stop it no matter how hard she tried. Each ugly sob wracked her whole body, leaving her curled up into herself. She had thought that if it were to happen again after the first time she would fight back, be able to take care of herself. But she didn’t. She had just shut down. If it weren’t for him it could have been a lot worse. Would have been. Her tiny hands fisted in his jacket, clinging to him like her life depended on it, a silent plea for him not to leave. God... she had been such a bitch to him and he still kept saving her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was burrowing into his hold and he responded only with a tighter grip. She was safe, she needed to know she was safe. “Shh, shhh, princess. Daddy’s here, daddy’s gotcha,” he whispered soothingly, completely out of character.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She brought her head to rest against his shoulder, the crying only making it hurt worse. It was pounding like a drum, making her stomach toss and turn like a stormy sea. Every inch of her was shaking, her eyes screwed tightly shut. She just wanted all of the memories to go away. She wanted to stop feeling like she had to shower in boiling water to be clean again. She wanted the nightmares to stop keeping her awake at night, to stop seeing her own hands covered in blood and have no memory of how it happened.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Babygirl, I need ta getcha looked at. So, I’m just gonna set ya down for now,” he said, softly sliding her to sit on the cot beside him. He juiced up a set of standard issue clothing before gently prompting her to drop her towel. He waited while she processed the request.

\----------------------------------------------------------

It took her some time, feeling like she was moving in slow motion. Reluctantly, she released her death grip on his jacket to remove her towel. A fresh flow of tears began as her body was revealed, unable to help the pang of self-hatred for all that has happened. She made it a point to avoid his gaze, opting instead to stare at the concrete floor of her cell.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He saw her look away and acted completely without thinking. Without moving her head at all, he cupped one of her cheeks in his cool palm and kiss the other, trying to be gentle despite his perpetual stubble. He then focused all of his attention on her clothes, checking her face for negative reactions as he helped her slip on a bra, panties, and her orange jumpsuit.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The tremors remained, but eventually the tears faded away as she dressed with his help. The angry red scratches on her hips were now crisscrossed with fresh welts from the other woman’s nails. She winced quietly as her panties slipped over them. Pulling on the jumpsuit unfortunately meant she had to stand for a second. The motion of standing sent her reeling, her head spinning as she gripped tightly to him for balance. She couldn’t find the words to tell him what was wrong.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He clutched her to his chest like a child with a teddy, “Hey, hey, hey, it’s all right. Just hold on, lil spitfire.” With a snap, he was depositing her onto an infirmary bed, and drawing a doctor across the room to tend to her. The man seemed confused for a moment before remembering clearly that he had been attending this particular convict.

As the doc set about dressing her head wound, Beetlejuice’s clawed hand never left Lydia’s.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia had to lay down on the bed to stop the way the room was spinning. She was tired, so tired... but the Doctor insisted she stay awake. Every time her eyes would close he would call her name loud enough to startled her back into the world of the waking. She had to admit, having a hand to hold through it all made it better...

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beej leaned down as the doctor was finishing up and having preparations made to have her stay overnight. “Hey there, lil’ kitten. Ya gotta stay with me, alright. Keep yaself awake. How about this, ya can ask me anything ya want. Ya just gotta rapid fire questions n’ I’ll try n’ hit em all, okay?” A chipped, black nail pulled a few stray strands of hair out of her face and he squeezed her hand. “Or yknow, just call me a rat bastard n’ all that. Whatever keeps ya here with me.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time since he had saved her. She opened her mouth, unsure of what to ask. But then he brushed her hair away from her face, and she knew. “...Why?” She croaked, her voice hoarse from all the crying. “Why are you doing this? You could have just thrown her off and left me there and your job would have been done.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He laughed half-heartedly, “Yknow me, never pass up a chance to fuck somebody up.” Scratching his palm nervously, he added, “N’ what can I say? You’re a sweet lil’ thing to cuddle.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“...You’re a horrible liar, you know.” She muttered, closing her eyes. “Dunno why you’re lying, but you are.” She tried to sit up, but that only served to make her feel like she was gonna puke. “Shit...” she muttered to herself, reaching out with her free hand and grabbing the nearest empty receptacle.

“You’ve done this before. Either that, or you’ve dealt with it... you knew too well what needed to be done.” How many times had a guard screamed at her until she came out of a dissociative episode? And he knew to just comfort her until she came out of it on her own. “They don’t exactly teach you that shit in school.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He held her hair back as she threw up, “Babes, you’re in a bed for a reason. Stay down, champ, and you’ll be alright.” Then, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown dragged his lips down, “Look, normally I love being called every nasty name in the book, but that’s cause I’ve earned it.” Rubbing her back in slow circles, he continued in his typical gravelly tone, “I’m not lyin’ and I dunno shit about helping people. But ya were hurt and shaking and ya couldn’t look at me. I...had to take care of ya.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

After losing the contents of her stomach, she allowed him to guide her back into the bed, laying back. “Has there ever been another person like me in here? Someone you tried to make a deal with?” She asked quietly. It sounded stupid to her own ears, like a jealous girlfriend asking how many other women he’s been with. But she was curious. How long had he been trapped here? Just puttering along with no one to see him?

\----------------------------------------------------------

He shook his head at her question, smiling. “Told ya babes, they don’t make em like you anymore. Nobody’s been able to see me in this dump, not ‘til you.”

“How’re ya feeling? And...and sorry she touched ya like that. I didn’t see what was happening fast enough.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She half smiled. “Only ever known one other person like me. Who could see spirits, I mean.” She whispered. Maybe it was the head wound, but he wasn’t as bad as he seemed. “I’d probably still be catatonic if it weren’t for you, so, I think you being a few moments late is forgivable.” She frowns softly. “I thought it was you before I turned around. Just felt someone touch my arm, thought you were fucking around. I... I didn’t start freaking out until I realized it was her.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” He drew a chair from across the room, sat next to her bed, and propped up his head on crossed arms.

“Ya said I couldn’t touch ya, Lyds. I wouldn’t have touched ya,” he whispered somberly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smiled a bit, looking over at him. “My mom. She was the one who told me what was happening when I started realizing I could see them...”

“I wouldn’t have minded you fucking around a bit. I’ve gotten used to it, actually.” She shrugged. “It’s nice having someone to joke around with.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Ya mom? If she’s anything like _you_ , she must be a real fire starter.” He gave her a rare genuine smile. Happy was a good look on her. Infectious, even.

He stifled a laugh, attempting to keep his face neutral while saying, “Well, ya know that’s not me, kid. Serious as the grave—” The sentence broke off when he caved to laughter.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She found herself laughing along with him, even if it hurt her head. It was nice. Laughing was nice. “She was, from what I remember.” Her smile fell a little bit. “She died when I was young. Couldn’t have been older than seven. But I remember her smiling. She was always smiling, it felt like.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He raked one set of claws through his hair. “Some moms never smile, babes. Glad you got one of the good ones. Sorry she left ya so early.”

He leaned back in the chair and waved away the conversation, “Well, too much of all that. What do ya wanna eat when we getcha back to the cell? Doc says another hour. Ya gotta let me know ahead of time, yknow? It’s not like I can just snap my fingers—” And with that, he snapped on a frilly apron and pulled a whisk out of midair, chuckling lightly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was tempted to ask about his mother, hearing what sounded like a note of regret in his voice, but the subject was changed. “What I want is a nap.” She chuckled weakly. “Dunno if it was the head wound, the rush of adrenaline, or the full-blown panic attack, but I’m exhausted.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“’Kay, babes, we can make it happen. But we still got an hour to kill... Oh hey!” In quick succession, he vanished and reappeared, holding the book he last saw her plowing through. “Want somethin’ to read? I’ll listen, but you’re gonna have to make up some gore if it’s not in here...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, it’s nothing interesting.” She muttered, taking the book from him and running her fingers lovingly over the spine. “Just a bunch of boring, sappy, romantic shit.” She teased, the concussion making her more honest than she would usually be. She tucked the book under her pillow, turning on her side to look at him. “I don’t wanna read, I wanna keep talking. It’s your turn to share. What’s the first thing you want to do when you get outta here? I’m sure you’ve been locked up for a while. Maybe longer than I’ve been alive.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He leaned forward in his chair again, elbows on his knees. “Over four decades. So unless ya are just looking _smokin’_ for ya age, yeah I’ve been longer than you’ve been breathin’.”

“I fucking miss the sun yknow? Real sunlight. Not ‘stuck in a house,’ ‘stuck in a prison,’ ‘taste the sun when ya can’ shit. I wanna chase all the fun shit ya breathers get to do. Yknow, if ya privileged n’ shit,” he tacked on.

“Beaches in Cali, canals in Italy, fuck—I’ll take a day in the Sahara just to soak that shit up.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She watched him, feeling her heart break as he spoke. The sunlight was the simplest thing, something that a lot of people took for granted. She had taken it for granted most of her life, and she knew partially how he felt after just a few months. How must he _really_ feel after forty years here? “That sounds nice.” She murmured sweetly. “Actually...nice is an understatement, I think. It sounds like a little piece of heaven.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Gesturing broadly, he chimed in with an excited, “RIGHT? _Plus_ , when ya move around a lot, nobody asks you, ‘Ya never fuckin’ age?’ or ‘Where did that idiot in town go?’ or ‘Did ya hear, they found his body in the river?’ or ‘Hey, don’t you live near the river—”

He grinned. Jokes made her smile. Her smile was gorgeous. Thus, jokes equal necessities.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She laughed as predicted, her eyes lighting up. “Careful. You don’t want to end up right back here, do you?” She reaches out, her hand timidly taking his. “Hey... uh... thank you. For all of this. I know you’re giving a lot more in this arrangement and I can be a bitch, but I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate it. I really do.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Eh,” he leaned in conspiratorially, whispering behind his hand, “if the death toll is in the hundreds we’re good ta go, kid.” Fixing her with a serious stare, he added wisely, “the thousands are where business gets risky.” There was only so long that he could hold that face too, before it cracked and he giggled like a schoolboy telling a dirty joke.

His face became unreadable for a moment, the only really discernible feature was mild shock at the touch of her hand. Nodding, he didn’t say anything, still trying to piece together a snarky response.

“Yeah, uh, sure thing, Lyds.” That was it? Come the fuck on, no innuendo, so bite, no barf-worthy self-fellating? This wasn’t good. Shit.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked exhausted, her eyes drifting shut only to quickly reopen. Fuck, how much longer did she need to stay awake? She pushed herself to sit up again, frowning. She felt guilty for taking up so much of his time. “You know... you don’t have to hang around. If you had something else to do...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“When I could stay here and torment you? Fat chance, ain’t gettin’ rid of me, babydoll,” he shot fingerguns at her before rambling on about this and that. When the hour finally did pass, Beetlejuice wasted no time transporting her back to her cell (along with her book of course).

He laid her down gently on her cot and asked, still kneeling, “Do ya...uh..need some holdin’?” The softness of her skin, the warmth of her body, the sweet sentiments locked up inside this pretty lil’ gothic babe made him want to curl up with her for a little while longer.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She never thought she would be so happy to see a prison cell. With a grateful smile his way, she crawled onto her cot. Sure, the pillow was flat, and the blanket was scratchy, but it was a place to sleep. She was caught off guard by his question. He... he wanted to hold her? That was new. But it wasn’t an unpleasant idea, and she was sure it took a lot for him to ask. Her expression warmed as she scooted closer to the wall, making room for him. “Yeah... that would be nice.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He eased in beside her, gently pulling her towards him to rest her head on his chest. An attempt was made to hide how brightly his eyes shone at her consent, but he knew she saw through him. What the fuck was so important about holding her? Being near her?? This shit was getting ridiculous.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Exhaustion overtook her within minutes, dragging her down into the blissfully dreamless sleep. She had come to trust him, and though he still had his moments, it was a comfort. She could feel _safe_ with him. In fact, it was that sense of safety that kept her nightmares away, allowing her the first restful sleep in months. Her arms had come to wrap around him in her sleep, hugging him close like a child with their stuffed animal.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The hours drifted by and Beetlejuice barely registered them. He was preoccupied, running his hands through her hair, listening to her soft breaths (and sometimes snores), feeling her squeeze tight around him. He couldn’t remember ever doing this, in any millennia he’d lived through.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her eyes fluttered open about an hour before wake-up call. Stripes? When had her pillow gotten stripes? Oh, no, wait... she looked up at him, her expression holding surprise. Had he stayed the whole night? “Morning...” she whispered quietly. “You uh... you stayed.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, pale light began to pour through the window to the outside world and the little doll in his arms slowly stirred. She looked at him, seemingly shocked, and all he could think was whether or not her eyes had always been that molten honey color.

“Heh, course I did, Lyds. Not much else ta do in this godforsaken dump.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She could think of more than a few things he could have ‘done’ while she was asleep. In fact, one of them was probably going to be talking her ear off again during her time in the yard later. But at this moment she felt a strange warmth, her heart leaping in her chest because he had chosen to stay with her. Fuck, Lyds, pull yourself together. Even your inner monologue is starting to sound like him. She sat up slowly, holding her head to see how it fared this morning.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He watched he move to sit up, and did so with her, “Hey, hey, hey...go slow kiddo. Ya look ready to pass out again.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“It hurts like hell.” She admitted, a seemingly endless pounding in her skull. “How long do these things usually take to heal?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Uh, I wouldn’t know, babes. I usually _cause_ people pain, not stick around to see them heal. Yknow, if they’re lucky. I don’t even know what shit ya can take ta feel better. Not that they’d give it ta ya here,” he grimaced. “Lemme go figure that out and getcha something. Ya good if I disappear for a bit?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Wait... now he was going to find her medicine and get information about how long it would take her head to heal? Okay... she really needed to brace herself. This bastard wasn’t going to play this nice for long. Right? “Y-yeah. Yeah, sounds good.” She said quickly, her expression shocked. “Just... don’t take too long, yeah? Gonna have to go to breakfast soon unless they let me stay in my cell.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He nodded and shot her a finger gun. “Ah, ya right babe. I’ll be back before ya can say,” at which point he puppeted her to say: “Beetlejuice is _sooo sexy_.” He grinned like a kid at a carnival and evaporated with a snap.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She chuckled weakly at the puppeteering, smacking his arm playfully before he disappeared. She had gotten used to having him around quickly, and now that he was gone, the cell felt colder. Her smile faded, the silence deafening. Unfortunately, that silence didn’t last long.

\----------------------------------------------------------

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before Alex phased through the bars of the cell, looking around confusedly before asking where Beej had gotten off to.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia frowned at the invasion of her space. “He went off to see if he could find something to help with my head.” She answered truthfully, seeing no need for lies. She was trying to keep from developing feelings anyway... She shouldn’t be angry with the woman who was unwittingly helping her with that.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Alex frowned, crossing her arms, “Are ya kiddin’? You got him playing doctor for you now?” She eyed Lydia up, clearly not impressed with what she saw.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She sat up, not liking the tone from the other woman. “The only thing I asked him for is a little backup for safety in here. Anything else is his own choice to do. What’s wrong, not used to going so long without getting fucked by him?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Alex’s gaze hardened into a glare. The redhead was slim but tall, clearly enjoying the height difference between her and her perceived competition, curled into a sitting position on a cot. “Oh, I’ve been fine, thanks. After you scurried off the other day, he screwed my brains out like an animal in a supply closet.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, he told me about that.” She smirked lightly, pushing herself to stand. A wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her, but she wasn’t going to let this bitch know that. Unsteady steps moved her closer to the spirit, a darkly amused expression on her face. “He’s mentioned how he was fucking you,” she reached up, pulling down the spirit’s chin to force her to meet her gaze. “But it was me he was thinking of. _My_ name on his lips when he came.” She let go, putting on a false pout. “But I’m sure you knew that, right?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

The spirit could only see a violent shade of red. He long hair whipped wildly out behind her as if blown by a strong wind. “You lying bitch! He loves what I give him, can’t get enough of me. It’s been this way for _years_.”

She circled Lydia’s small frame, scoffing, “What could you even _give_ him? You wouldn’t know how to get him there if her drew you a fucking MAP.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“That’s why he was with me last night instead of you, right?” She spoke coldly, completely unfazed by the spirit’s tantrum. “I can give him quite a bit more than you, I’m sure.” She purred, not even caring that her responses seemed to anger the spirit further. “When was the last time you gave him something other than your body? Listened to him?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“We share cigarettes! Smoke and talk when h—” Alex halted. Then she grinned maliciously, continuing with, “Oh ho ho, want a minute. That’s _all_ that you can give him, isn’t it? You get jumpy when men touch you, I’ve seen it. That’s fucking rich. I’m sure he doesn’t care at ALL that you won’t fuck him.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She stiffened up. Shit, the bitch was right... what if she couldn’t fuck him? Sure, he had gone down on her, and she had been able to handle that. But would she be able to handle anything else? She wrapped her arms around herself, almost giving in. But no... No, he wouldn’t walk away from her for something like that, would he? The way he had held her when she broke down the day before, had stayed with her in the infirmary, had held her all night. “I dunno, he still seems to prefer my company to yours. I’ve given him multiple chances to go off and get his rocks off with you, but you know what? He stayed. Make of that what you will.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

The ghost noticed her target tense and shrink in on herself. She taunted her gleefully, “Oh god, I’m right, aren’t I?? Even if he did think about you during sex, it would probably only be because he knows he’ll never. Get. It. From. You.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“And tell me how that gives you the high ground here.” She turned, a glare that could kill in her eyes. If only the intended target wasn’t already dead. “You’re content just being his whore, is that it? Because let me tell you, when he gets out of here, he is NEVER looking back. But you’ll still be stuck here, won’t you? Trapped. And I’ll be damned if I help you.” She hissed.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Animosity practically dripping from her airy form, Alex got right in her face. “Good thing he’s never getting out then. Who’s gonna do it for him? You? Fat fucking chance.” Suddenly, she appeared lounging on the vacant cot, never breaking eye contact. “It’s a shame yknow. Even blowing him is a wild ride. You’ll just never find that out, will you? And don’t worry, he’ll come hunt me down soon. You’ve been around him long enough to know...he’s eighty percent lust.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She scoffed. “Get the fuck out of my cell before he comes back and throws you out. I’m sure you’ve see what he does to anyone who screws with me.” She fixed Alex with a dark glare. “There are fates worse than purgatory, I assure you. I’d hate to see him throw his little fucktoy into one."

\----------------------------------------------------------

“If the punishment is anything like the last time I pissed him off, I won’t be able to sit for two weeks straight. Well, metaphorically speaking,” she waved away the rest of the conversation. “I’m not worried. You should be, though. If you keep jerking him around. Bye, _bitch_.” And with that, she was gone.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She grabbed the nearest item she could reach, her book, and threw it at the ghost only for it to hit the wall with an unsatisfying thud. She was gone. Lydia collapsed onto her cot, curling up into her usual little ball for protection. Fuck, what if she was right? What if he left? Should she be worried? She didn’t pay any attention when she heard his chatter once again in her cell, too far gone into her own thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

Beetlejuice burst onto the scene, completely unaware of the shift in the cell’s atmosphere. “Alright, babes, after a scaring the shit out of a few of the docs, I found one ta help me,” he said, scratching his head. “This is acet-ah-minno— ah fuck, it doesn’t matter, this is what should help.” He tossed and caught a small bottle of pills midair before finally noticing how out of it she looked.

“Babes? Hey, babes…? Talk ta me, wouldja? Somethin’ happen?” He started to search her over frantically.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked up to him when he addressed her. She blinked a few times, coming out of her own head. She opened her mouth, wanting to tell him what happened. She wanted him to reassure her that he wasn’t going to leave, that she meant something to him. But... no. No, she couldn’t do that. “Nothing. Just a migraine.” She covered. “You should take a trip... go see Alex. She popped by looking for you.” It would be better for him to get some distance anyway.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He quirked an eyebrow. Alex again? The fuck? “Well, here babe, this should help with that.” A glass of water materialized in his hand and he handed it and the pill bottle over to her.

“Who gives a shit if people are lookin’ for me? Roll call’s about to happen. Why was she bothering you anyway?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She took the water and pill bottle. Opening the bottle, she took two pills and sipped the water to swallow it down. She was surprised by his reaction, part of her having expected him to leap at the chance to get laid, especially after spending the whole night with her. “She was just looking for you.” She lied quietly. “Guess she wanted to get a good fuck in before breakfast.” She tried to tease, but the humor didn’t reach her eyes. The ghost’s comments about not being able to give him what he needed were still bothering her, but she wouldn’t bother him with that.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He was pleased that she’d taken the medicine, but still concerned by her perceived sluggishness. Chuckling at her joke, he brushed it off by saying, “Eh, I’ll give her some when you’re back safe in ya cell. Not lettin’ em tear ya apart in the caf, kid.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She offered a half smile, standing up slowly so as not to topple over. She didn’t know if she would be able to keep her mouth shut about what had happened if she ended up in his arms again. Fuck, when did she start caring about what he thought?? “Just make sure it satisfies her for a while. I’d hate for things to get steamy in here only for her to walk in.” Her attempts at humor felt weak to her this morning. She was off her game...

\----------------------------------------------------------

He saw her waver and clutched her waist to keep her steady. “Lyds, babes, what’s gotcha like this? Ya seem off...” At her joke, he raised a brow and smirked, “Watcha saying baby, ya wanna get _frisky_ with me?” He pulled her flush against him and gave her a heated look.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She opened her mouth to speak, everything that had happened that morning wanting to pour out. Between his arms around her and the way he said her name, she could have poured her whole heart out to him if he asked. But no... No, that wasn’t who they were. Though, the implication brought everything back to the forefront of her mind. She gave him a weak smile, shaking her head. “Who’s to say I even could? Don’t wanna go all spacey on you in the middle of it, right?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Now, no one ever called Beetlejuice super perceptive. But he wasn’t an idiot. She was avoiding his questions. Looks like he’d have to get answers elsewhere, but that could wait for now.

So, he chuckled half-heartedly, firing back with a wink and, “Ya didn’t space out last time babe, seemed like you were enjoying yaself.” He could hear the heavy footsteps of the prison guards approaching, so he guided her towards the bars. “Don’t worry baby, I’m not gonna letcha fall on the way there either.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She felt a blush color her cheeks. “Yeah? That still what gets your engine revved?” The thought did make her perk up a bit, some little part of her jumping for joy. But Alex had been right... anyone touching her made her jumpier than a kitten. Well... almost anyone. She turned, allowing him to guide her into place by the bars. “Promise? I don’t wanna fall on my face and break my nose, too... I’ve already been hurt almost every day.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He cupped her chin, turned her head to the side, and, letting his gravely voice dip low, whispered against her neck, “Sweetness, ya taste like fuckin’ candy. Let me down there again and I may not come up for air...”

He chuckled, propping her up with a hand on her waist and an arm under her arm. “Daddy’s gotcha. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She actually shivered when he whispered against her neck, her lips parting to take in a sharp breath. Part of her considered letting him take her then and there, willing to take the chance if he whispered to her like that again. But unfortunately, she needed to eat. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast the day before, and she was practically starving. With his help, she made her way into the line, down to the cafeteria.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The shiver did not go unnoticed, so he finished his statement with a nip to her ear. Once she was in line, he let her support herself on the rail, but stuck to her side in case she faltered. “Feeling up ta eatin’ babe?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry in my life.” She admitted quietly, ignoring the looks from the guards and fellow inmates. They already thought she was crazy. Why not keep talking? She glanced over at him, giving him the first genuine smile she had been able to muster that morning. His little pet name had come to grow on her, sending a little thrill through her at the sound. It was funny how much could change in just a few days...

\----------------------------------------------------------

He loomed behind her, pulling some of her hair to the side and placing a wet kiss on her shoulder. “Yknow, funny thing, neither have I,” he growled against her skin. Her smile caught him off guard, but garnered one in return. “Whatcha smiling at, babes?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She bit her lip, becoming hypersensitive to his attentions. She felt his fingers graze across her neck as he brushed aside her hair, the smallest of whimpers escaping her. Gods, he would be the death of her. He made her feel safe, of course, but she was quickly finding that he also made her feel desirable. “You.” She answered without thinking, instantly looking a bit taken aback by her own honesty. “Just uh... shit, I have no excuse for that one.” She muttered, feeling a bit ridiculous.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He managed to bite back any stupid reply his self-sabotaging habits would undoubtedly provide. “That’s a new one for me, sugar. I usually prefer screams, but hey... I’ll take it,” he finished with a grin.

Once he had her securely at a table, he settled on lazily floating through the air on his back, arms behind his head.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Thankfully, breakfast was uneventful. She was able to eat a meal, and the medicine had even kicked in for her head by the time she was done. She was feeling fine until it came time to head out for some time in the yard. Shit. The yard likely meant Alex was out there... but she couldn’t back down. She stepped out into the sun, finding a space in the shade to sit.

\----------------------------------------------------------

As they entered the yard, Beej did a quick scan and then halted her for a moment. “I’m gonna go fix a little problem babe, you know the deal. Three times, I’m there in a snap.” He watched her start to walk away before he crooked a finger at Alex and passed back into the prison.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia watched as the Redhead pranced over to him, trying to ignore the pang of Hurt in her chest brought on by the sight. She didn’t care. She shouldn’t care. But she did... she wanted to run after them, to let him know everything that had happened. Oh shit... did she have _feelings_ for the guy?

\----------------------------------------------------------

As she bounded through the doorway, she saw him duck into the same supply closet as last time. She crept in behind him, excited, but so much happened at once. The light flicked on, the door slammed itself shut, and Beetlejuice pinned her to the door by her neck. His claws grazed her skin while he leaned in close. “Ya upset my girl. Ya got two minutes ta tell me what happened.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

The girl looked confused for a minute. “Ya girl?” She put on her adorable pout and sweet voice, “I thought _I_ was ya girl, Daddy. Don’t tell me ya replaced me so easily.”

Feeling the claws graze her skin brought her out of it, a cold glare crossing the spirits face. “Wait, you’re bein’ serious? Ya just gonna toss me aside for that little bitch who can’t even satisfy you?” She chuckled darkly. “The little thing gets all jumpy any time a man comes near her. You think she’s gonna let you do the things I do?” She purred, reaching down to stroke him through his pants.

\----------------------------------------------------------

At the delicious feeling of her hand pressing against him, Beetlejuice nearly lost focus. Fucking her right now seemed like a good option. Finding out what fucked with Lydia was good too. Eh, there was time for both.

But wait a’ minute, the fuck did she get off?? With a curl of his lip, he roared, “ _Don’t call her a bitch_.”

The grip on her throat relaxed. “Listen, there’s enough of Daddy to go around. But ya gotta share nice. What did ya say ta her?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“If ya so worried about her, where’s the worry for me, Daddy? Hmm?” Alex purred. “She said some pretty fucked up things, too. Ya know she tried to tell me you were thinkin’ a her cunt when ya were inside me?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He played it off smoothly, lying through his teeth, “Course not, doll. Can’t think anything at all when I’m inside of ya.” He let his pointer finger drift down her body, pausing right between her breasts. “Just leave the kid alone, and I’ll give ya what ya want, k?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Why ya even botherin’ with the little bitch when I’m here? What’s she done but use ya? Ya won’t get anything from her, much less what I can do. Come on, Mr. B... think’a all the fun we’ve had over the years.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His snarl returned full force and her head became reacquainted with the door. His grip on her neck became painful as he ground out, “Now, y’see, there _must_ be somethin’ wrong with Daddy’s hearing. Cause I could’ve _sworn_ I just told you to _NOT CALL HER A BITCH!_ ”

Several bottles on the shelves and a pipe towards the back of the room burst simultaneously. “Ya right ‘bout one thing, Alex. We go way back. And that’s the only reason I’m gifting you a warning. Stay the _fuck_ away from her. I’m not gonna be so nice next time, I swear to fuckin’ Satan.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Alex cried out at the attack, fire beginning to lick at the tips of her hair as she glared. “I don’t know why ya even bother! What does she give ya that I can’t?!?” She couldn’t understand why he would want some fragile little living shit in the first place, but especially not one that wouldn’t put out.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He didn’t even let a beat pass, shouting “ _She’s fucking special! That’s all ya gotta fucking know!_ ” With that he threw her to the ground behind him and blew the fucking door straight off its hinges. Guards started to crowd around, trying to figure out what had caused all the damage, but Beej didn’t stop until he reached Lydia.

His eyes were still ablaze and a savage snarl pulled at his upper lip. He offered her a hand to help stand up before spitting out, “Let’s cause some trouble in this shithole already.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She seemed momentarily peaceful when he first saw her, a soft breeze blowing through the yard. She smiled up at him before recognizing the fire in his eyes. Things must not have gone well with Alex, then... She took his hand, standing and stepping close to his side. “Sounds like those two by the window are having a pretty serious argument. Could come to blows any moment now if you wanted to help it along. It’s usually a domino effect from there.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He laced his fingers together and twisted his hands right-side up until he heard his knuckles crack, following it up with popping his neck. “Lemme kick things off, kitten,” he growled ominously. He appeared behind one of the women, grabbing her by the ankle and yanking it forward. She spilled backwards into the sand, crawled back up on her feet, and gave the seemingly guilty party a horrifying uppercut.

With that, the game was on! Beetlejuice cackled like a madman before teleporting back to Lydia’s side.

He puppeteered the convict nearest them to yank her friend’s hair back harshly and tumble to the pavement with her in a swift series of elbow jabs and kicking.

Pulling a shiv out of midair, Beej walked to a nearby table and stuck it forcefully into the table’s surface. Stepping back, he waited until an inmate set eyes on it and made a grab for it, amping her up to bring a knife to a fistfight, as it were.

With one hand raised in the direction of a patch of concrete, he pulled it into the earth with a savage gesture, sucking a prisoner with it. The hole spit her back out...onto the barbed wire atop the fence that surrounded the yard.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia watched the chaos unfold, a little laugh escaping her. Fuck if he didn’t know how to have a good time. Everywhere she looked there was a new fight breaking out, screams and the sounds of punches and slaps filling the air. Guards came running from everywhere to try and stop the anarchy, only ending up sucked into the mess. Lydia sidled up beside him, lightly slipping her arm through his. She felt oddly powerful on his arm. Like the world could throw everything it had at her and she would come out on top. But the cherry on top for her had to be the icy glare she got from Alex as the spirit floated through. She smirked, gently using her free hand to pull him down into a quick kiss. Take that bitch...

\----------------------------------------------------------

On a chaos high, power surged through Beetlejuice. Every hair standing on end, every muscle pulled taut, his useless lungs sucking in air like a man drowning.

When she attached herself to him, he shot her a gleeful grin and felt an extreme rush of adrenaline. He picked her up by the waist and spun her around, cackling, before dropping her feet back to earth.

His demonic powers weren’t meant to be leashed! This is what he was meant to do, MADE to do. And he had this woman next to him that reveled in it as much as he did.

He froze for one moment at the kiss, but just the one. Then, he was wrapping her up in his arms and crushing his lips against hers.

Fuck, she tasted like tea and ghostly breezes and haunted earth. Jesus, she was his walking, talking dream girl.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She felt like electricity was surging through her, chaos surrounding them. It was enough to send her past the usual edge of sanity, finding excitement in the never ending sea of screams around them. The beautiful cacophony was crescendoed by his cackling as he swept her through the air as if she was weightless. God it felt good to show up the little spirit who was now glaring from across the yard. From the burning look in her eyes, the man beside her was the only reason Lydia was still in one piece. Oh well, let her fucking try. As the quick kiss turned into a crushing passion, Lydia allowed herself to give in. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling herself in ever closer. He tasted of stale tobacco, whiskey, and power, distinctly masculine and entirely him. Fucking shit, she could stay like this forever if given the chance...

\----------------------------------------------------------

He backed her up until her back hit the trunk of the tree she had been sitting underneath. One hand moved to cup her face possessively and the other pushed her hips forward against his.

He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her, it was like he forgot how to do anything else. The kisses turned wet, tongues intertwining and teeth administering curt bites to lower lips.

When she finally broke apart from him for air, he leaned back and took in the pretty little picture. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes wide open, pupils blown out, a coat of saliva covering her lips.

“Ya lookin’ absolutely _sinful_ babes. Wanna party back at your place?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She followed his lead, backing up blindly into she was pinned between his body and the tree. Anyone else and she would have been running for the hills. With him? She arched further into his touch, tangling one of her legs around his. She fell into the rhythm of the kiss, the sweetest and most sinful sounds falling past her lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, a small whimper escaping her when they had to pull apart. Damn her need to breathe! “Fuck yes... if not, I have a feeling everyone’s gonna get a show.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Holy shit, between that leg of hers and the sounds she was letting loose, he was hard as a rock. He chuckled, “I’m fine either way!” But he hiked her legs over his hips, gripped her ass, and—snap!—they were in her cell.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped her as he lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around him like a vise grip, allowing her to lean in and kiss along his neck. She wanted him... and she wanted him _bad_.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He groaned at her lips on his skin. When he was able to think straight again (he was a fuckin’ superhero apparently), he tossed her on the cot and tore of his jacket like it was burning him.

He covered her body with his, reuniting his mouth with hers. His hands greedily grabbed at anything in their reach, finally settling on those gorgeous breasts of hers.

Pulling back just enough to breath words against her lips, he said, “What do ya want babe? Do ya want my tongue going to work again? Do ya wanna put ya lips around me?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

The sound of him groaning from something she did made her heart skip a beat. Oh that was such a beautiful sound... she was distracted long enough for him to toss her back onto the cot. Watching him undress was one of the single sexiest things she had ever seen, every movement fluid. His jacket fell to the floor, and she got an idea, smirking up at him. She opened her mouth to speak, only to have his lips descend upon hers again. Thoughts went out the window, her tongue tangling with his. His hands on her body were enough to get her all worked up, wanting to have everything he would give. “I’ll give you a choice...” she purred seductively, nipping at his jawline. “I can wrap my lips around your cock... or you can fuck me while I wear that jacket of yours. _Only_ your jacket...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He whined desperately at hearing such dirty words come out of such a pretty mouth. That shit drove him up the wall. He practically begged her, “Don’t suppose I could be a greedy bastard, go for both? Double or nothing?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was quiet for a moment, considering. She was already pushing her boundaries by trying this, and there was no guarantee she wouldn’t go catatonic. “Afraid not...” she murmured, sweeter than before. “At least, not today... let me prove to myself that I can handle this first.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He nearly shivered at the cloying tone of her voice. Keep it together, Beej. She worried about handling him. She’d previously joked about shutting down if they had sex. Steps, right? They should take this in steps?

One hand drifted down to grip at her waist, fisting in the material of her jumpsuit. Then he finally uttered a response, “Lips, babe. I want ya lips.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She had to admit, she had hoped he would go for the other option. Something about the idea of him fucking her senseless in his own jacket sent a thrill through her. But this was probably better. Baby steps. She gently kissed down his throat, reminding herself she had the power here by teasing him. It made her feel better, less like she was going to fly off into a panic as her hands fumbled with his belt.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He barely moved, afraid to scare her off if anything he did set off warning bells. He did sit up and take her with him so she at least had room to work with. Throughout all of this, he was frantically writing mental notes about the things he could do to her in just his jacket—

\----------------------------------------------------------

She noticed his hesitance to move, smiling playfully. “You know, I may be skittish, but despite our current situation I’m not into necrophilia. The more you move, the less I feel like I’m fucking a corpse.” She shifted, pushing him to sit on the cot as she straddled his lap, resting her forehead against his. “I’ll let you know if I’m not okay. You don’t have to be so careful... you don’t scare me.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He barked out a laugh, “Look atcha! Ya got jokes!” Glad she had a sense of humor still, he felt a small amount of warmth bloom in his chest. She was fuckin’ perfect, wasn’t she? He couldn’t think of a better response then a single nod and another blazing series of kisses.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She returned the kisses with her own fire, coming to a point of comfort where she didn’t feel afraid. Slowly, she moved from his lap, kneeling on the floor in front of him. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, making sure everything was okay before removing his pants and freeing him from the confines of his boxers.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, a salacious grin on his face and fire in his gaze. When he pulled him free, he let out a pitiful groan, “Fuck, kitten, ya hands are so warm...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smiled a bit, a little laugh escaping her. “If you think my hands are warm, you’ve clearly forgotten about other parts of me.” She teased, stroking him experimentally, watching his reactions to learn what he liked.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He shone his head, “Forget what ya tasted like on my tongue? Fat fuckin’ chance, babygirl.” Despite trying to control himself, he couldn’t stop his hips bucking once or twice into her hand.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She watched with wide eyes as his hips bucked. She wasn’t used to having this much power over anybody. It was intoxicating... no wonder he loved creating chaos. She leaned in, placing feather light kisses along his length, her ears attuned to his every breath and sound.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He sucked in air like a breather, light hisses escaping him as she brushed her lips teasingly up his erection. “Ya killin’ me, kitten." He curled his hands to keep his claws from burst through anything, instead cutting into his own palms.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Am I your kitten, now?” She purred teasingly, grinning up at him. She could learn to like a pet name like that... She noticed the way he had balled up his fists and took pity on him, letting the head of his cock slip past her velvet lips.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Do ya like being called that, kitten? Daddy’ll go with whatever ya want...” He was caught off guard by her slipping him into her mouth and abruptly lost it. Tossing his head back against the wall, he let out a guttural groan. “Fuuuuck! Babes, ya got a mouth like heaven—fuck me—shit—”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His groan sent a bolt of desire straight to her core, a little moan escaping her in answer. Fuck... she was really rethinking his offer of both. She slowly swirled her tongue around him, taking him deeper into her mouth. What she lacked in experience, she was making up for in curiosity and eagerness.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He felt her moan reverberate in her mouth and tangled a hand in her hair, lightly tugging, desperate to make her moan again.

One of her hands gripped him at the base and he grunted, thrusting up slightly. “Babes, ya doing so good—so fuckin' good—”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She let out a low groan, the tugging of her hair enough to make her a whimpering, needy mess. She stroked along the length of him that she couldn’t fit in her mouth beginning to move her head up and down in a steady rhythm. She wanted to drive him over the edge... to be the reason he lost control.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Okay—fuck self-restraint—the claws on his free hand dug into the cot’s material, ripping some, the sound delicious. Though, _nothing_ beat the sounds slipping past her lips. Speaking of, seeing her lips stretched around his cock was just fucking maddening.

His thoughts were starting to meld together, a rapid stream of consciousness, “Babes, fuck…ya suck cock like a pro...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She whimpered, her free hand finding its way between her thighs. The things he said, the taste of him in her tongue, they were enough to drive a girl off the rails. She paused, a shaky moan reverberating around his length as her nimble fingers found the key to her own pleasure.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Try a little deeper, babe—just—fuck!—ah, don’t stop...” Watching her was the fucking sexiest thing in the world, big honey colored eyes, thick lashes, pretty pink lips sliding up and down his dick, hand squeezing and pumping... but her mouth!

Warm, wet velvet enveloping his cock... Inde-fucking-scribable.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She took a deep breath, relaxing her throat as she tried to take him deeper like requested. Tears prickle at her eyes as she gags, pulling back a bit more. Okay... too much. She glanced up at him, apologies in her eyes as she worked to resume the pace he seemed to enjoy.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Ah, forget it kitten, ya doing so good for Daddy...” He gently raked his fingers through her hair in reassurance. Catching sight of her touching herself through her clothes, his eyebrow shot up, “Fuck babygirl, glad ya enjoying yaself...and what a show for Daddy—ah!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her eyes fluttered as she leaned into his touch like she was starved for human contact. It was so nice... it pushed her to move faster, determined to bring him to the edge. Her tongue swirled around him expertly, flicking across the tip with practiced precision. God, she wanted him... it was taking everything she had not to strip down and straddle him right then. If his cock made her feel this good in her mouth, she couldn’t imagine how good it would feel filling her in other ways.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His hand dipped down to caress her face for a moment, she clearly enjoyed that kind of touch. Duly noted. But soon enough, his grip in her hair was tightening—fuck, her tongue lapping at his head kicked something off—as she dropped her mouth down again on him, every muscle in his body tensed.

He felt ecstasy shoot through his body, his head tossed back, his balls drawn tight, his hips bucking... “Lydia! Fuckin’ shit—I-I’m—” and with that, a roar clawed its way out of his throat and he burst into her mouth.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She tasted the salty release on her tongue, a little purr escaping her at the realization that she had been able to satisfy him. She stayed still, not questioning the grip in her hair, feeling his seed pump into her mouth. A pretty blush colored her cheeks as she pulled back, swallowing it down. She felt irrationally shy, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face as she glanced up at him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

As soon as his brain could process thought again, he glanced down to see her blushing like a schoolgirl, lips gleaming with spit, a drop of his cum leaking from the corner of her mouth, eyes wide and trained on him. Immediately, he tucked himself away and pulled her into his lap, crushing his lips to hers, completely gone, still riding his high.

“I—fucking—told ya—they don’t make em—like you—anymore,” he said between desperate kisses.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She eagerly moved back into his lap, all pretenses abandoned as she kissed him with everything she had. Fucking shit. She cared about him, had gotten too attached. But maybe it wouldn’t be too bad... “Good thing.” She lauged breathlessly. “Otherwise — I might — lose — you.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “What, ya _don’t_ wanna lose me anymore babes?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“No.” She whispered, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling close into his arms. “I don’t... what do you think me and Alex we’re fighting for this morning?” She admitted, figuring he would have heard from the other spirit.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He tried to catch her eyes, but she had already buried her head in his chest. “To uh, to be honest... I didn’t get that far with her. She wasn’t answering any of my questions. I called ya my girl and she got derailed...”

He let loose a chuckle though, before tacking on, “She _did_ mention that ya brought up me thinking of ya during sex... Sounds like bragging to me babes.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smirked against his chest. “She got mad, didn’t she? Well, serves her right after the shit she said to me.” She pulled back, looking up at him. “She... she noticed how jumpy I get. Made me feel broken, so I may have bragged a bit.” Looking back, she realized how childish it sounded, leaving her embarrassed. But Alex had started it, dammit. And she wasn’t taking anybody’s shit any more.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His stare hardened, “She _what_? What did she say?”

Beetlejuice held her face in his hands, “Ya not broken. Shit happened to ya that you couldn’t stop, bad shit by a shitbag. Ya one hell of a strong bitch. End of story. Everyone else can fuck off. If they don’t want to, I can... _help ‘em along_...right over a cliff.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“It’s nothing... stupid, really, but she suggested that I couldn’t give you what you needed. A-and that if we got out you wouldn’t stick around because of it.” The thought was like a white hot poker in her throat, burning her from the inside out. She didn’t want to lose him, not now. Not when she had actually found someone who seemed to understand. She was snapped out of her reverie by his hands on her face, forcing her to look at him as he assured her she wasn’t broken. Then... why did she feel like she was? She smiled weakly at his offer of violence towards anyone who would talk down about her after what happened. But that dread was still there in the pit of her stomach. “She could be right, you know... I might not be able to. I wouldn’t blame you if you had to go back to her company.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Sticking around after they got out hadn’t really entered his mind. Sex or no, he didn’t see himself being tied at the hip with this girl when they met. But... Spitfires like her were hard to come by. Spunky, fierce, chaotic, sweet...all wrapped up in a pretty, petite package. Fuck. Shit. This was new. He smirked and shook his head, “Go ta someone else, after _this?_ Hate to be a bad news bitch, but ya might just be stuck with me.”

He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, “Besides, how could we break up the best duo at fucking shit up? We’re gonna burn the world ta the ground. N’ look good doing it,” he added with a wink.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her eyes brightened up when he said she was stuck with him. “There are worse fates.” She joked lightly, playfully nipping at his thumb where it lingered against her lip. “But I mean it. While we’re here, if you have to go to her...” she half shrugged. She didn’t trust herself to give him what he needed. It was better she give him permission (even if he didn’t need it) than find out about it happening behind her back. Someday they would leave this place, and her, behind them.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He blinked for a moment in shock, but shook his head. Grinning, he said, “Lyds, with the amount of trouble you get in, I’ll be lucky ta have a smoke break. Got no time for Alex.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“It’s not like I go looking for it!” She said defensively. “It just seems to find me.” She pokes his chest with her index finger, smiling playfully. “Exhibit ‘A’ right here...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

With faux shock and hurt, he gasped and clutched a hand to his chest, “Me, babes? Like I’d ever...I swear on my grave—”

He chuckled and pulled her into another wet kiss, “If I’m trouble, it’s only ‘cause I know you _like_ it,” he teased. “…well, that and I’m the demonic embodiment of chaos. But whatever.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She giggled, the kiss making her smile even brighter. It was like she was happier around him, less of a skittish little kitten. “Well, for the demonic embodiment of chaos, you definitely have a good level of lust in there.” She purred, gently running her fingers along his jaw. “Not that I’m complaining... you’ve treated me well enough.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His eyebrows shot up at hearing her giggle, but he didn’t comment. If he did, she might not do it again. And it was too pretty of a sound. No scream, but... maybe...it was close. He jokingly nipped at her fingers as they drifted back up along his jaw. “Look, babes, I’m no philosopher, but sex? Orgasms? Kinda chaotic, no?”, he laughed.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She bit her lip against a smile, barely pulling her fingers away before he nipped her. Her eyes were twinkling with amusement as she gazed up at him. “I suppose I can see where you’re coming from. Especially when you’re a part of it.” She teased. “You tend to... well... go a bit feral.” She chuckled, looking down at the spot where his claws had ripped her cot.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He offered her a sheepish look, before snapping his fingers and repairing the tears. “Heh—yeah, well, if you think _this_ is wild...”

“Also. ‘Kitten.’ What’s the verdict, hm?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She watched as the fibers repaired themselves, her eyes widening in awe. “I’ve never paid much attention to what happens when you do that before. That’s... wow...” she breathed, her fingers trailing over the spot to see if it felt any different. “Hmm?” She was distracted by the question, blushing prettily. “I could get used to kitten. I’ve uh... I’ve actually liked all of the names you’ve called me. Princess when I was having a meltdown, babes or Lyds in public, kitten in private. They’re all nice.” She toyed with his tie, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes. “I gather that you prefer ‘Daddy’? Or was there something else?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He was surprised and gleeful that she seemed interested in his powers. Ever a show-off, he started a rapid-fire series of snaps to impress her. “C’mon baby, that’s nothin’! Hit me with your best shot!” First snap, “Possession.” A guard wandered by the cell doing a rather impressive river dance. Second snap, “Obtainment.” He jutted his chin to the area behind her, where a miniature horse was standing up beside a literal treasure chest. Third snap, “Shapeshifting.” He held a hand out, with each of his fingers having been turned into tiny little nipping sandworms. Fourth snap, “Teleportation.” And with that, they were sprawled out on a blanket on the prison rooftop.

He just about melted when she grabbed his tie, “Fuck babes, ya don’t get ta do that. Call me that with those eyes and those lips? Ya killin’ me—“

A light shone in his eye at hearing she liked the nicknames. “Let’s not forget ya full name when I cum apparently.” He let out a laugh as she elbowed him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was ever in awe of his powers, her expression lighting up like a Christmas tree at each new trick. She was especially interested in the shapeshifting, examining the little Sandworms for the briefest of moments before they were gone and the couple was stretched out on the rooftop. Her expression shifted as she looked up, taking in the sight of the stars above them. How long had it been since she had seen stars? She could have cried. “Bee...” she whispered, blindly reaching back to find his hand. She laid down, resting her head on his chest without ever looking away from the sentinels of the night that twinkled above them.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He made a mental note to show off more. Those were just the tip of the iceberg, toots. (Figures that she looked endeared to the sandworms, instead of frightened the fuck out of her mind.) “What, what's wrong babes? Ya need to lie down? Your head not doing so well?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“No... no, it’s stars.” She whispered, little tears threatening to gather. “I feel like I haven’t seen stars in years.” She watched the night sky like it was her favorite movie. Every time when she had a problem that had felt too big as a child, her mother had brought her outside and told her to look up. Without fail every big problem started to seem small... it was much the same now. “You know, there’s a star out there that shares your name.” She said softly, feeling a bit silly afterwards. He probably knew that, but it had slipped out, her little habit of sharing with those she cared about.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He stayed silent for a moment, watching her out of the corner out of his eye. She seemed so sad and so happy at the same time. God, human emotions were...bizarre. His nails raked gently across her scalp, his other hand still held in hers. Happiness looked good on her. Right there, he decided that, if he had anything to say about it, she was going to stay happy.

He snapped out of it at her comment, “There is?? Holy fuckin’ shit! See, I told ya, people been calling me different shit for millennia. They always spell it weird.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

The way his nails scratched against her scalp was so soothing that it threatened to lull her to sleep. It didn’t escape her that he was very careful to avoid the still healing head wound, making her smile weakly. Maybe prison didn’t have to be so bad. Not when you have someone to care about you. Her eyes fluttered, nearly falling asleep before he spoke. “Hmm? Yeah. Yeah, I think it’s up there somewhere.” She pointed off into the sky with her free hand. “I think it’s spelled differently though. More like Beetle-Geiss than Beetle-juice. Unless I’ve been pronouncing it wrong all this time.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice let her drift off, her sleep-laden voice telling him she needed rest. He watched the sky all night as she cuddled against him. The netherworld sky was black, starless, soulless at ‘night.’ This and the daylight in the yard were what kept him from burning the place to the ground and just haunting the empty plot for the past few decades.

When the sun peeked past the horizon, he gently nudge Lydia awake. “Hey, kitten, it’s time ta go back. Roll call soon.”


	6. Chapter 6

Brushing back Lydia’s hair and gently squeezing her waist, Beej pulled her back into consciousness.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her petite frame was clinging to him all night like a teddy bear. It was almost unbearably warm outside, but he kept her comfortable. The cutest little protest passed her lips as she nuzzled her face into his chest. She didn’t want to go back. Going back meant letting him go... But he seemed especially intent on waking her. Her eyes opened, a sleepy pout on her features as she turned her gaze to him. “Why do we gotta go back?” She whined adorably. “We could be out already...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Holy shit, she really was like a kitten, trying to burrow into his side. ...fuck him, that was adorable.

He ran his hand up and down her back. “Babes...the deal we gotta strike...it’s a big one. Ya might not want it.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She rested her head against his shoulder, humming weakly. “You know, I’ll never know if you don’t tell me. What is it? My left leg? My firstborn?” She teased lightly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His eyes glazed over. He sat up, holding her to him. “Lemme just...give me a few hours to figure out how to say it. I-I don’t know—how to say it yet.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked up at him. He was really worried about this? Would it hurt her in some way? She smiled weakly, gently kissing his cheek. “Take your time, Bee. Not like I’m going anywhere.” She whispered softly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He would never admit it (seriously, like _fucking never_ ), but he loved that she had a nickname for him. Someone doing what he did. Returning something he gave. The fuck does this girl think she is, making him feel like this. This warm, safe garbage. Gross.

And he was about to screw it up. Like what was he supposed to say?? ‘Hey, toots, wanna bind yaself for life ta me? Wanna live forever and be free, but also be leashed to me for eternity? Wanna be in a marriage where you either feel forced to fuck me or be sealed off forever from sex?’ She didn’t seem the type to cheat, even in a green-card marriage.

 _“Not like I’m going anywhere.”_ Ya gonna run for the hills soon enough.

\----------------------------------------------------------

A heavy sigh escaped her. “We do have to head back. If I’m not there for roll call they’ll lock the whole place down again. Now, _that’ll_ get the inmates pissed. And the last thing I need is someone else attacking me just because they heard I fucked up.” She gently pulled him into a warm hug, finding any excuse to hold onto him. It didn’t hurt that she found that being steady during their ‘landing’ meant her head hurt less.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His brow creased at the thought of someone assaulting her again. Since when did he care about humans? Since when did _not_ want violence? Since her, apparently. She was a little weak spot. But he wouldn’t have it much longer, he was sure. He simply nodded and snapped them back into her cell, setting her down gently on her cot.

The guards started strolling down the hallways, yelling for inmates to get on their feet.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She stood, giving him a soft kiss to last through the day before heading over to stand by the bars. She was afraid to look back, worried that all the sweetness of the night before would fade away in the light of a new day. What if he needed more than she could give him?

Alex’s taunts echoed in her mind. _“I’m sure he doesn’t care at ALL that you won’t fuck him.”_ She could only hope he didn’t notice the way she stiffened up, Staring ahead silently.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He needed time to think. How to sell this pitch. He was a conman extraordinaire for fuck’s sake, a showman through and though. C’mon, there were great fucking benefits! Never facing death. Forever young. Freedom, not just from here, but from everything. Every want, every restriction, every shitty place, she could be free from all of it. That should be enough to seduce anyone into _selling their fucking soul_. But she wouldn’t be doing that. She’d be selling her hopes for relationships, marriage, freedom...to him. The one thing she wouldn’t be able to escape. And that was one fucking hell of an addendum.

Yknow, not selling your soul to the devil. Just selling your sex life to a demon.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She stepped forward into the line, same as every morning. Suddenly, she was thankful for the mindless tasks. It meant she could still do what was needed when lost in her thoughts like this. She followed the routine. Breakfast, shift in the library, shower, lunch, yard. As she was headed outside a guard grabbed her arm. “Warden wants to see you, Deetz. Follow me.” She simply nodded, not thinking that she was being led away from the Wardens office.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice had stuck to her like glue that day, especially in the showers. He gave anyone within a ten foot radius a glare that promise a painful death. Not that they could see him. But most humans can pick up on some potent-ass demonic energy.

Beetlejuice had already phased outside when he glanced backwards and noticed Lydia moving in the opposite direction. The fuck...?

\----------------------------------------------------------

She followed the guard blindly, barely noticing what happened before she was grabbed and thrown roughly into an empty office. “Ow! Hey, what the fuck?” Lydia hissed, looking back with a sudden fire in her eyes. “I’ve been watching you. I’ve got a thing for little girlies just like you.” The guard spoke lowly, locking the door and stalking towards her. “Tiny, cute, and batshit crazy.” Lydia’s eyes widened as she realized what was going on. She quickly opened her mouth to scream, only to be pushed roughly against the wall. She banged her head again, not as hard as before but enough to cause tears to well up in her eyes from the pain. A hand was clamped over her mouth, the guard dangerously close and growling in her ear. “No one will believe you, Deetz. We all see it. You’re crazy as all hell. Talking to yourself no matter where you go, causing trouble and then disappearing from the scene. Coulda sworn you looked like you were blowing some lucky bastard in your head last night. Maybe it’s time to get a real taste, huh?” Lydia started thrashing around, biting down hard on the hand. “AH! YOU LITTLE BITCH!” He roared, chasing her as she tried to run for the door. “No! BEE!” She screamed, the guard pushing her to the floor and pinning her there, straddling her waist to keep her from running again. Tears were running down her cheeks as she tried to wriggle away, a sharp slap landing across her face. “Stay still and it’ll be over faster.” He growled, freeing himself from his pants. He was stroking himself in one hand, trying to pry her mouth open with the other. She risked opening it one more time to scream for her protector. “BEETLEJUICE!!!!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beej had raised his hand to snap in front of the guard leading Lydia down the hall when a hand caught his wrist. A quick glance revealed Alex drawing his hand down to sit low on her hip. “Hey there, Daddy. Still upset from last time? I’ll be happy to let you punish me.” “Are ya shittin’ me, Alex? I coulda sworn I made myself clear, I’m done with ya. Period.” He ripped his hand away from her. “What she can’t share?” She pouted, clearly convinced he was just playing hard to get. “You want to have us both together? We could—” His hand shot up, “I’m gonna stop ya right there.” Several striped roots pulled themselves out of the ground and wrapped around her legs. “’Cause I guess ya just too stupid to get it.” The ground underneath her turned to sand, slowly giving out from underneath her. “I. Want. HER.” With a snap, the spirit was sucked down to the netherworld. Whatever gets her out of his hair.

He took off down the corridor, unsure of where his Lyds went, phasing through doors and walls, trying to find her. Then, he heard her call. In an instant he was in the room. 

What. The. FUCK.

His eyes caught it all in a moment. The red handprint on her face. Her pinned to the ground. The guard, exposed, touching himself. The shitbag’s hand trying to force her mouth open.

Before the guard could take another breath, he was sprawled flat on the ground with a boot at his throat. Beej was no longer invisible, hair flaming red, eyes possessed, hands crackling with energy.

“Ya wanna explain ta me _what in the name of SATAN’S ASSHOLE_ ya were doing to _my girl_!?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia scrambled back as soon as she was free, curling up in a little ball by the door. She felt dirty and useless, her hands shaking. The guard, however, looked like he was about to shit his pants. He had heard rumors before about the prison being haunted, but had put no stake in the claims. After all, everyone knew ghosts didn’t exist. But it was hard to deny when one was crushing his windpipe with a boot. “Y-your girl?” He choked out. “Just thought she was—AH!—Crazy!” There it was again. That word. Crazy. Suddenly Lydia was up and running around the desk, ripping open drawers, searching for any kind of weapon she could wield against him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beej flicked his wrist and his claws elongated, matching the slowly widening, absolutely insane grin on his face. Stepping back, he reached down to the guard’s chest and dragged his nails up through the warm flesh until he reached the man’s throat. At that point, he gripped the guard and brought him to a stand, face within inches of his own.

Streams of blood followed the hills and valleys of the prison guard’s torn skin.

He sunk his claws into man’s throat, not inflicting enough damage to kill him though. God, it felt so good to cut up a body again.

“Oh ho ho, she’s not the crazy one, bitch. Thinking ya were just gonna violate her? And walk away? Now _that’s_ fuckin’ batshit,” he broke out in maniacal laughter.

His head turned when he heard Lydia rooting through drawers like a madwoman. “Babes? Whatcha need? Ya wanna do the honors?” He began spinning his hand, a new weapon appearing between every rotation.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia stopped her frantic searching, frozen in place at the sight before her. Beetlejuice absolutely mangling the guard who had dared to hurt her. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who had held her so tenderly when she was dissociating, who had whispered such sweet things to her, who had made her feel the most amazing pleasure she’d had to date. But, of course, it was. And the reason he was like this was because the poor soul had dared to take advantage of her. Her hand wrapped slowly around the pair of scissors in the top drawer of the desk, a molten glare fixed on the guards face. “I’m tired of people like you thinking that they can take what they want from me.” She hissed quietly, the proverbial snake in the grass as she stalked closer. “You think because I’m small, because you can physically overpower me, that I’ll just sit back and take it. Because you say no one will believe me, you think I won’t stand here and shout until I have no voice about what you’ve done.” She stopped in front of him, her resolve nearly breaking until she felt Beej’s eyes on her, drawing a strength she hadn’t known she had. “You think because I got caught once, I won’t do it again.” A dark little smirk quirked the corner of her lips. “Well, you’re unlucky number three. And you’re wrong.” She moved with all the strength she had left in her body, embedding the blades of the scissors in his throat, her hands shaking as crimson pooled over them.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was ethereal, hand to god. She took up the room like a collapsing star, every atom in the air pulling towards her. A force of vengeful nature, a fury, an erinys, and sweet fucking _Jesus_ , he was hard as a rock.

Fuckin’ number three?? File that one away for later. But also...good for her. He was so perversely proud of his little spitfire’s murderous streak.

Warm crimson floods washed over his hand and wrist and it was _beautiful_. Did the piece of shit deserve more torture first? Sure. But that wasn’t his call.

He did, however, add a posthumous finishing touch. He free hand reached down to grab hold of the guard’s still exposed, now flaccid, dick and wrenched it off with a sickening squelch. He was rewarded with another gush of blood.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She watched with a blazing fury as the fucker choked on his own blood, stepping back and away. But all of her strength seemed to fade with the light in his eyes. As soon as he was truly gone, she collapsed into a nearby chair like a marionette who had their strings cut. She had done it again, and she still didn’t feel any better. She didn’t regret it for a second, but it didn’t take away the memories of a sweaty body pressing down on her, her fists beating against a chest viciously, her legs being held open. No... no, it was still there to haunt her. She raised her eyes to the demon before her, on the edge of breaking down. “What’s wrong with me, Bee? Why do I keep attracting people who want to hurt me?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Oh no. No, no, no. She was upset again. Fuck this fucker, he’d taken up enough of their time. With a snap, his remains and any traces of their violence were on top of a garbage dump in China.

He pulled her to him, cradling her as he carried her down the halls to the library. “Babes, I’m so sorry. No one else will ever get to ya babes. I swear to fuckin’ Satan.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She gripped his jacket tightly, refusing to go too far from him. She could feel the shakes setting in, the first real sign of the breakdown. Unfortunately, every time this happened was different, so she never knew what was coming. She knew he would do whatever it took to help, though. Always did.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He only clutched her tighter as they continued walking, eventually reaching a back corner of the library. The hidden nook had a large window, sunlight streaming in from outside.

A snap later and the small section of floor was piled high with cushions and pillows. He set her down gently, before sitting beside her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked towards the sunlight, almost feeling unworthy of it. She didn’t deserve freedom after all she had done. Never mind the fact that it had been in self-defense both times. She laid out on the cushions, resting her head in his lap. He understood her better than anyone... She just wanted comfort from him. Needed him to tell her the little things she didn’t believe about it not being her fault, and it all being over. She wanted to believe it when he said so.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Shhh, shh, shh. Ya okay, princess. Daddy’s gotcha. Ya safe again, Daddy’s gonna keep it that way. That bastard prick is gone, and so is Alex. I’m fuckin’ done seeing ya get hurt. Don’t care what I gotta do, babes. I’ll burn the whole world to the ground if I gotta.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked up in surprise. Alex was gone? “W-What do you mean she’s gone?” She asked shakily, grabbing onto his hand. “I told you that you could keep seeing her. I don’t mind, really.” She tears up, a feeling of guilt towards why he did for her piling on top of her own shame.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He shook his head quickly, trying to assuage her guilt, “Babes, I sent her straight to the netherworld. She’s not stuck haunting this shithole anymore. Pretty much just cut off her sentence, literally a favor if you think about it.” So what if it was more complicated than that? She didn’t have to know.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, “And she was...crossing lines with me. My call, not yours. Ya don’t get to feel guilty, sorry to say, babes.”

He pulled her into his lap. Let’s try distraction. He was good at that. “Did I tell ya about when I first realized I was stuck here? Within the first month, there was regular flooding from burst pipes, a near-constant kitchen fire, a snake infestation, and some...minor explosions. _Total_ coincidence, ‘course,” he whispered conspiratorially. “And would ya believe it, the towels kept disappearing from the showers,” he shook his head in mock disbelief.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Crossing lines?” She asked quietly. “What do you mean?” Hadn’t he already slept with her? How many lines could she cross after that? It was like there was a fist in her chest, squeezing at her lungs until she couldn’t breathe. But it eased slightly when she was in his lap, listening to his early days of creating chaos. “Pervert.” She muttered playfully at the towel comment. “Good to know I’m not the first inmate you’ve been attracted to.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“She uh... look, Lyds. I want ya. I didn’t wanna fuck around with her anymore. She pushed it. I retaliated. No big deal, she’s freer anyway.” The little lie at the end slipped out of his mouth with ease.

He chuckled along with her at her comment. “I’m surprised ya not reading me the riot act. What can I say? I like sex.” He shrugged with a grin.

\----------------------------------------------------------

 _“Lyds, I want ya.”_ Those words were enough to make her feel like there was a lump in her throat.

“B-but Bee... what if I... what if I can’t give you what you want? What if we’ve gone as far as I can go? Or this sets me back and I can’t do anything. That’s not fair to you!” Her voice wavered, tears escaping her and rolling down her cheeks. His comment about liking sex only furthered her guilt. He was a demon, she knew that. For all she knew he _needed_ sex. Who was she to keep it from him?

\----------------------------------------------------------

He shook her lightly by the shoulders, cutting her off with, “Princess, ya gotta breathe. Don’t worry about all that. Ya don’t even know if ya wanna strike our deal yet. Don’t need to be worrying ‘bout what I want.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“But I do!” She protested. “You’re always taking care of me! I should be able to do the same. I should be able to take care of your needs!” She seemed to shrink into herself, away from his touch, too guilty to accept it. “...but I can’t. I can’t because I’m damaged goods and it hurts because I want to! I want to be able to do this! I care about you, damn it!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His brain was working overtime trying to figure out how to calm her down, but then he registered what she had said at the end. He had never been told that. He had been ‘alive’ for thousands of years, people had been afraid of him, attracted to his power, seduced by him... but fuckin’ hell. No one had ever...even _liked_ him. Not really.

He pulled her further into his embrace, clutching her to his chest. He wasn’t good with words, but managed to say, “Okay, babes, okay. We’ll figure it out. Yeah, it’s a part of my nature, I’m fucking demon, we’re everything greedy and lustful and power-hungry. But not in the way humans are. It’s...different. Inherent, uncontainable.”

“Fuck it! I’ll just fuck other people, ya ain’t gotta do shit for me, or let me do shit ta ya. Ya ain’t gotta do anything, babes. We’ll just stay here and go on like that.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She believed him when he said that they would figure it out, almost calmed. But then he went and fucked it all up. Maybe he hadn’t meant it badly, but it was how Lydia took his words.

 _“Ya ain’t gotta go shit for me.”_ “...Clearly not.” She whispered sadly, extracting herself from his hold and standing. He was giving her so much, and here she was. Selfish. Giving nothing and taking everything. She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself tightly as she headed towards her cell. Walking this time, no more luxury of having him snap his fingers and appearing somewhere else.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Sweet fuckin’ Satan, she harbored so much guilt. Not that he could judge, he stored up rage like a conspiracy theorist stores canned beans.

He scrambled after her, “Lyds, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just saying—ya don’t owe me anything!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“But... but how is that fair to you?!?” She turned, looking to him with a crazed expression. “You’ve sent away someone you’ve known so much longer than me, someone who could give you what you needed. For me? I... I’m not worth that, Bee!” She ran her hand through her hair, looking like she didn’t understand. And she didn’t. She had never felt like she truly mattered to anyone other than her parents, and even her father could be iffy. “I’m fucked up, okay? Maybe to the point that I can’t be fixed! And you’re willing to give it all up for this?!?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He returned her wild-eyed stare with an expression equally as crazed, “If I fuckin’ care about ya, what else is there??” What was she even talking about? “Ya don’t think _I’m_ fucked up? I CAUSED THE BLACK PLAGUE, DOLLFACE!”

He was frustrated beyond belief and his hair was changing color by the second. “I’m a fucking DEMON for Christ’s sake! I kill people for fun, I’d fuck anything that moves, and I just wanna watch the world burn!”

“YOU think you’re not worthy?? Sweetheart, I got _news_ for you!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She flinched, the sound of a man yelling at her awakening bad memories. Her eyes slowly lost their shine, her shoulders slumping. She was actively fighting her own mind in the hallway, her body trying to shut down again. But she didn’t want to. Not here, not now. She would only end up right back in his arms, feeling more guilty than ever when she came out of it. She stepped back, her heart pounding out of her chest. “I... I...” her lips stumble over the words, finding nothing to say.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His anger deflated, seeing her close herself up. “I—I’m sorry, babes. I’m...gonna give ya some space. Call me if ya need me.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She just nodded, not wanting him to go but being too proud to ask him to stay. She turned, making her way back to her cell. How long had she been laying on that cot, her eyes glazed over with harsh memories? The light had died from the sky, surely she had missed the call for dinner, and the night had turned cold. She clutched the scratchy prison blanket tightly around her shoulders, wishing more than anything that he was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a slut for comments <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egregious smut ahead, loves <3

He spent the next few hours drifting around the prison, stopping no place in particular and chain-smoking like a fiend. He finally gave into his desire to see her again, popping into her cell late that night. He would’ve thought she was asleep, except she was visibly shivering.

With a simple, quiet hand gesture, she was covered in a down comforter and he laid himself down on her free cot. He was ready to spend the night counting bumps on the ceiling.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The soft comforter fell over her, surprising her. She hadn’t even heard him in the cell. How long had he been there? No matter how simple it was, compared to the previous blanket, the comforter was the most luxurious thing she had ever felt. Those damn tears threatened to spill again as she pulled the comforter closer around her. She couldn’t turn to face him yet, ashamed of their last encounter. But she could let him know she appreciated the gift. “...Thank you.” She whispered, knowing he would hear.

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He looked at her longingly, her form curled up facing away from him. “...Anytime, kitten.” He wanted her to climb on top of him, kiss him, hold on to him, ride him, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to feel her.

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Sleep evaded her, as she had assumed it would. Hours she lay there, staring at the wall. Each little chip in the stone had been etched into her memory. She shifted, crawling off of the cot, still partially cocooned in the comforter. Her feet shuffled across the floor, leading her to stand beside the cot. “Is there room for one more?” She asked softly.

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As soon as the words escaped her lips, he pulled her down beside him. Swinging one of her legs up over his hip, he buried his face into her neck and nuzzled. “Thought ya’d never ask, kitten,” he said, adding a little love bite to her tender skin.

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She was swept into his arms in less than a second, eagerly cuddling closer to him. It felt right in an unexplainable way, safe. She wasn’t even bothered by his hand on her thigh, a motion that would have sent her into a panic by anyone else. No... he wouldn’t hurt her. ‘Kitten’... the little pet name purred against her skin, followed quickly by the love bite. She was jelly in his hands at that one, melting further into his touch. “It’s not fair.” She pouted against his shoulder.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He left a trail of kisses from her shoulder to her throat to her cheek, “What’s not fair, kitten?” She was warm and soft and so very _Lydia_.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“That...” she commented, shifting her head to give him better access. “You can kiss me a few times and I would do anything for you. You’re too good at that.” She gently shifted the comforter to lay over both of them, pulling her body flush with his now that there was no barrier between them.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He finally kissed her lips, long and slow before responding, “I think all _you_ have to do is look at me with that evil glint in ya eyes and I’m about ready to fuckin’ forgot anything else.”

He started to pull the comforter off of him, “Babes, I’m too cold, ya’ll be warmer under there by yaself.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

The kiss had her lightheaded by the time it broke, blushing prettily. “Well, I only get that evil glint when someone is already causing chaos.” She breathes with a little smirk. “As I’m sure you remember.” She threw the comforter back over him, giving him a faux stern look. “Don’t you dare. I came over here to cuddle up to you, and I will be damned if I let a blanket get in the way.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Can’t help it babe, ‘specially when I’m around you,” he broke out into a mischievous smirk, “Ya have an effect on me.” Something about her reprimanding him only made him want her more. He pulled her back, practically wrapping her around himself. “Babes, I just want ya happy.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She fixed him with the sweetest look she could muster, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Do you really want me to be happy, Bee?” The look in her eyes held mischief, but she tried her best to hide it, wondering if he would play into her little trick.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His eyes closed halfway when her fingers started playing with his hair. He chuckled, “Sounds like I’m about to come up against another conman right now, but hit me.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

“You want me to be happy, stop bossing me around!” She said playfully, using the edge of the comforter to light smack his arm. She had a huge smile on her face, seemingly helped just by his presence.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He grinned wildly, “Is that so? Well...guess ya stuck bein’ miserable, sweetcheeks.” With an exaggerated shrug, he prepared himself for her retaliation.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She huffed in mock exasperation. “And here I thought you’d do anything for me.” She turned over, crossing her arms and trying to keep from smiling.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He snakes his arms around her, putting his mouth right against her ear, “Ya must’ve _misheard_ me babe.... I said I’d do anything _to_ you...” A low laugh rumbled through his chest, which was pressed close against her back.

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She shivered lightly, though it was most certainly not from the cold. “Is that a promise, or a threat?” She purred, practically entranced by the low rumble of his voice.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Babygirl, that’s an _invitation_.” With that, he laid back and rolled her on top of him. She was now straddling his lap with her hands on his chest and his on her thighs. “Your move, kitten.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia looked down at him, her hands gripping at his shirt nervously. She did want to try... images of her seducing him in his jacket flashed to mind. But she didn’t want to leave him disappointed. After what had happened earlier that day with the guard there was a good chance that she could freak out. But he was always so kind when it came to her... Treating her like something to be treasured, not like any other guy would have done. She didn’t think he would do anything that upset her, would listen to her feedback if something was wrong. She cleared her throat nervously, sitting back as she began to slowly remove her jumpsuit. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, he had already seen her naked... had already used that wonderful tongue of his to bring her to dizzying heights. She shouldn’t feel so worried.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He lifted his hand at the sound of her clearing her throat. Gently stroking up and down her waist, he commented, “Now I’m sure you’ve heard this before babes, but holy fuckin’ shit, you’ve got a perfect lil body.”

His Lyds was a petite little gothic doll. Brooding, honeyed eyes. Pillowy, pink lips. Slim, desperate fingers. On a less romantic note, the tightest, cutest little ass and a fuckin’ phenomenal rack. Not to mention... if he actually needed air to live, he’d still be satisfied drowning himself in that gorgeous pussy of hers.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Mmm, I’m glad you think so.” She said with a little chuckle, slipping the sleeves down her arms, reluctantly standing to slip the godawful thing down her legs. “Not that you’re half bad yourself.” She whispered, gently leaning in to kiss up his jaw. Feather light kisses, designed to drive him off the rails, until she reached his ear where she nipped lightly and whispered. “Enough to drive a girl crazy, isn’t that right, Daddy?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His erection surged at the name she called him, “Whatever ya do, babes, don’t stop calling me daddy. Or do stop. Cause if ya keep saying it, we might end up fuckin’ doggystyle on the floor while I spank ya like it’s my job...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She shivered lightly. “That’s a definite option. But I have a better idea.” She pulled back, giving him a little show as she stripped off her bra, but held it to her chest. She grinned mischievously. “You know, I had an idea last night and it hasn’t left me alone... you may have chosen my lips wrapped around that glorious cock of yours, but I _still_ want you to fuck me while I wear your jacket.” She chose that moment to let the bra drop, leaving her in nothing but her panties. “What do you say, Daddy? Can I borrow it for a little while?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His brain went blank. All he could comprehend was her shiver, her seemingly innocent lips forming such a vulgar word as cock, her calling him Daddy, and her bra dropping to reveal two breath-taking milky white breasts. When he finally realized she needed something, he shook his head forcefully to focus. “My jacket, right, babes. Sorry—” with a snap it was off of him and in his hand, which he held out to her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She reached out, plucking the jacket from his grasp and pulling it on. She was practically swallowed up by the fabric, feeling ridiculously like a kid playing dress up. But at the same time, it was like being marked as his, some primal part of her purring like a contented house cat. She hooked her thumbs through the sides of her panties, slipping them off and kicking them off to the side, leaving her before him with nothing but his signature stripes.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His mouth was a bit agape, seeing this lovely creature in something so closely tied to him. Pulling her down to kiss him by the jacket’s lapels, he whispered desperately against her lips, “Convince me ya mine, no one’s gonna touch ya like this afta you’ve worn my stripes. Even if it’s a lie, spin a pretty one.”

He could feel her wetness against the front of his pants. Fuckin’ hell, he’d sell his soul (if he had one) to watch her ride him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She kissed him deeply, straddling his lap once again as she teasingly rolled her hips against his. With a little nip to his lower lip, she pulled back. “But I _am_ yours...” she purred sweetly, fully meaning the statement. “Why would I want anyone else but my Daddy, Hmm? No one else is ever gonna make me feel so good, and treat me so nice.” She led his hands to rest on the soft skin of her hips. “If you’re so worried, Daddy, why don’t you mark me up? Make sure everybody _knows_ I’m yours. Only yours...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She had him shaking. He was certain he didn’t deserve this goddess grinding on him, begging him to claim her. “Ohh babygirl, ya have no idea just how good Daddy wants to treat ya, how good he wants ta make ya feel...”

He happily followed where her hands lead him, gripping her hips and urging her to move forward. “Come sit on Daddy’s face, Princess.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked a bit apprehensive about the act, shy after all that had happened between them, but the pet name of princess had an oddly soothing effect on her. She follows his lead, his hands on her hips becoming her map to what he wanted her to do. She bit her lip shyly as she got into position, on her knees with her most secret of places over his face. But he wouldn’t do anything that didn’t feel amazing, right?

\----------------------------------------------------------

He gazed at her with half lidded eyes, “ _Fuck_ babygirl...I can smell you. How excited you are for Daddy. He’s gonna made you so happy, babygirl.” With that, he hooked his arms under her legs and pulled her to his mouth. He lapped at her sloppily at first, just enjoying the taste of her.

His tongue slid into her, lengthening and thickening with a few thoughts from him.

He was ready to bunker down and spend the rest of eternity tongue fucking her, tasting her, hearing the moans she made...

\----------------------------------------------------------

His tongue turned her into a needy mess almost instantly, the talented appendage stoking a fire within her. “Oh fuck, Daddy...” she whimpered, her fingers twisting in his hair. It started with just that general teasing, enough to make her wiggle her hips and beg for more. But what really got her going was when his tongue slipped into her, seeming to get thicker and longer, a cock all its own. She bit down hard enough on her lip that she could have sworn she tasted blood, writhing with delicious agony, silently begging for more with the shaking of her hips.

\----------------------------------------------------------

With a snap, the cell had a fourth wall in place of bars and he pulled back long enough to tell her, “Be as loud as you want, babygirl.” He buried his face between her thighs again, sucking gently on her clit, watching her reaction closely.

He swirled his tongue, suckled, swirled the opposite direction, suckled again...

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Oh God!” She cried out loudly, her head falling back. He was trying to torture her. That was the only explanation for the magnificent things his tongue was doing. “Please don’t stop, Bee... it’s so fucking good!” Her clit was so sensitive that each little touch was like a new wave running through her, leaving her breathless. He knew what he was doing...

\----------------------------------------------------------

He freed one arm out from underneath her, slicking two fingers in her wetness before working them inside. He reached searchingly with every pump until he found her g-spot. With each rock of her hips, he sucked harder on her clit and pushed forcefully with his fingers.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She gasped openly, the sensation indescribable. She was almost lost then and there. It was so good, and she wanted more. Her hips started moving double time, encouraging that building sensation, chasing her pleasure.

\----------------------------------------------------------

 _Theeeere_ she goes. He had his babygirl on the ropes now. Changing the angle on his wrist slightly, he made it so it was near-constantly pressing on her pleasure point, as he gave a particularly brutal suck to her clitoris. That seemed to break her—

\----------------------------------------------------------

She cried out in ecstasy, feeling that wall break as pleasure washed over her. It rolled through her veins like lightning, leaving her trembling, her hands pressing down on his chest in an effort to keep from collapsing.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice pulled out his now cream coated fingers and replaced them with his tongue, frantically licking around and inside of her to collect her sweetness.

He held her legs steady to keep her from toppling over, but didn’t let up on tasting her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She whimpered adorably, the new stimulation only serving to drag out her pleasure to the point where it was almost painful. Her legs were shaking in his grip, her face contorted into the sweetest agony. “Daddy, please! Please! I can’t...” she whined, needing a break. He seemed like he was gonna keep her there forever, his tongue buried deep inside of her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He withdrew his tongue, which reverted back to normal upon leaving her tightness. Wearing a self-satisfied smirk, he said, “Sorry, babygirl, got a little carried away there.” He helped ease her down to straddle his lap again, before wrapping his tongue around and in between the fingers that had been inside of her, licking up any wetness of hers left. “Fuckin’ delicious, Lyds.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smirked adorably, those last lazy streams of pleasure still running through her system. “Apparently so. You acted like you were starving.” She leaned down, gently placing a trail of kisses across his neck. “You’re too good at what you do...” she purred, nipping him lightly. “How is a little kitten supposed to keep up? Hmm?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He sat up to kiss her, letting her taste herself on his lips, “For you, babes? I’m always hungry.” Cue a cheeky wink. He let out a low whistle as she started to plant kisses on him, “Ya keep doing what ya doing babe, ya’ll catch up,” he finished with a laugh.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She kissed him deeply, swiping her tongue over his lower lip, tasting herself. It was surprisingly sexy, ticking a new box for her. A little laugh escaped her at his comment. “Well, I’ll be sure to remember that for next time...” Her kissed were interspersed with tiny love bites. She loved listening to the little gasps of breath when her teeth scraped his skin. It was an intoxicating sound, making her feel powerful and sexy. Her fingers began to work at his tie, then his shirt, soft kisses trailing along every new inch of skin. She wanted him to squirm, to see how she felt when he teased her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Feeling his lil’ spitfire biting at his neck was enough to make him squirm, but feeling her start to undress him? Feeling her fingers brush over his chest as she unfastened his shirt... was what caused him to actually groan out loud.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smiled against his skin at the sound of the groan. She must be doing something right.... Seduction wasn’t one of her strong suits, but she found she wanted to do whatever it took to see that fire in his eyes. Sitting up, she pushed the shirt off of his shoulders, practically purring at the sight. He was lean, but she could still make out the strong muscles beneath his skin. She gently ran her fingertips down his chest, silently admiring him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He watched her like a hawk. She seemed to be enjoying herself, enjoying the view. That was an unexpected one, since his form that most closely resembled a human wasn’t exactly—he was—look, there was pudge and he pulled it off and looked damn good doing it but—still. Surprising that someone like her would...want someone like him.

Not that he was complaining. A charismatic showman if ever there was one.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She bit her lip nervously, looking down at him. “Did... well... did you want...?” Fuck her nerves! She wanted to try the full show with him, but all of a sudden her tongue stumbled over all the thoughts in her head, refusing to let her voice her desires. She wanted _him_. Completely and fully wanted him. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his lips on her skin, his cock buried inside of her. But how to say so when your body won’t cooperate? She reaches out, gently pulling him up, pressing her body close to his. Her gaze met his, full of trepidation, but also determined as hell as she tugged him down into a slow, lingering kiss.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Reading ya loud and clear, babygirl. He wound his fingers in her hair, tilted her head back, and kissed her on repeat. “Still kinda shocked ya wanna do this, Lyds. ‘Specially with me. _Do_ you want this?” His poker face didn’t fail, but he couldn’t hide his nervousness from himself.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her lips were parted prettily, looking up at him with molten honey colored eyes. “I do... I want to try, at least. You’ve protected me, saved me... I... I trust you. You would stop if I asked, and you wouldn’t make me feel guilty for it.” She gently took his face between her hands. “I care about you, Bee. I want to try this for you, and for me.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He nodded once, “Just for ya, Lyds. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” He paused before adding, “Besides, seeing ya naked and in my jacket is enough material for me to come to for a week straight.” He couldn’t stifle a laugh, but pushed through it to smile at her.

He laid back down, never breaking eye contact, “But if ya asking for requests, kitten...I wanna watch ya fuck yaself on my cock. Ride me, babes.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She half smiled, his laugh coming across as comforting instead of hurtful. He was smart in his choice of positions. Not only would it be what he wanted, but it allowed her control of their pace. “Okay, Daddy...” she murmured sweetly, moving down to slowly remove what was left of his clothing. She made sure to trail her fingers over his skin, having noticed how he reacted before.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her fingers drifted to the bottom of his belly, right above his waistband. He felt her hands deftly unbuckle and unzip him, so lost he didn’t notice just how tightly he was squeezing her thighs. There were gonna be hand-shaped bruises there tomorrow.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She slowly leaned in to kiss him, taking her time to enjoy it as she straddled his lap. Maybe they weren’t in a relationship, but it helped her a bit to act like they were. She could feel the bruising grip on her thighs, nipping his lip lightly in retaliation. “Tell me what you want, Daddy.” She purred. “I want to be a good little kitten for you.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her words ripped a moan from him first, but finally he responded, “Fuuuuck, I want to fuck you right here, right now. And then over a desk and the on the roof and then on the floor—- ya fuckin’ get it, please touch me Lyds!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smiled playfully, gently pressing her hips down against his and grinding against him. Her lips were peppering him with kisses, anywhere she could reach. “Is this good? Or did you want more?” She teased.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He took her face in her hands, eyes wild and desperate, before pleading, “Babes, honey, kitten, doll—I swear to god I want all of it—” Cutting himself off, he kissed her as passionately as he knew how.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She melted into the kiss, taking pity on him. Maybe she had teased him enough... She carefully positioned herself, squeezing his shoulders for support as she lowers herself down onto him, slowly taking him in inch by inch. She lets out a little gasp, biting her lip hard to keep quiet as she feels him fill her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

A wave of sensations hit him at once and Beetlejuice reveled in them all hedonistically. Her nails biting into his shoulders, her thighs gripping his hips, her whimpers echoing in his ears, her tight, quivering pussy sinking down on his length...

“Ah! _Fuuuck me._ Kitten, ya got heaven between ya legs, hand ta Satan....”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She buried her face in his neck, laughing weakly. “Says the demon...” Her hands were squeezing his shoulders tightly, nails biting in much harder than she intended. Her mind was trying to go back to a dark place, but she refused. No, she was going to enjoy this. “Talk to me, Bee...” she whispered shakily. “I... distract me for a minute. I need it.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He nearly let a scream loose at the feeling of her fully impaling herself on his cock...but she was talking to him now, focus. What was she saying? Talk, right. He cupped her face with one hand and rubbed a thumb across her cheek. Softly, he said, “Guess ya the closest I’m gonna get ta heaven then, huh? Prefer it this way babes. Never met someone with gold eyes, by the way. Not that I can remember. Ya a once in a millennia girl, Lydia.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked into his eye as, her expression open and vulnerable. The things he said nearly brought tears to her eyes. “Bee...” she whispered softly, leaning into his touch. “I...” She closed her mouth, not sure what she had wanted to say. She just wanted him to be with her, wanted to be cherished. She leaned in, kissing him slowly as she carefully rolled her hips, trying to see if she could handle it.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He rolled his hips in tandem with hers, just enough to encourage her. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he started lightly squeezing, rolling each nipple between a forefinger and thumb.

“Ya doings great, Lyds. Ya so fuckin’ _wet_.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She gasped softly, feeling a bolt of pleasure roll through her. It surprised her that it would feel so good. That she could still feel good after everything that happened... A soft little moan escaped her lips as he toyed with her nipples, the dark memories fading away in the light of his affection. “Bee, it’s good.” She whispered, awestruck, beginning to move her hips and ride him with more confidence.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His brain wasn’t quite processing what she was saying, but he responded anyway, mindlessly thrusting up into her, “Course it is babes, ya sexy as fuck...” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her breasts molding to his touch, the moans that escaped her when he painfully pinched her nipples

\----------------------------------------------------------

She bit her lip against a whimper, her hands gripping tightly to his arms as she tried to keep up with his thrusts. A fire was spreading through her, only serving to heighten her desire for him. It was so damn good... “Kiss me, bite me, something...” she whispered breathlessly, needing more. She just wanted to feel more. She wanted him in her, around her, everywhere.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His lips attacked her neck, sucking enough hickeys to fully claim her as his. He wanted to fuckin’ advertise his hold on her. Dare someone to try and touch his girl. He fell back flat on the cot, gripping her by the ass and using the position for grind harder into her. “Fuck, babygirl, ride Daddy’s cock. Ya look so good like this—tell me ya like it....”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She let out the most sinful moans as his lips latched onto her neck, the bittersweet sensation of hickeys going straight to her core. “Fucking hell...” she hissed through gritted teeth, his cock grinding into her _just_ right. She lifted her hips, feeling him slip out a bit, only to sink back down onto him. She continues this rhythm, crying out as he hit her sweet spot. “Oh Daddy... it’s so fucking good! I love it! Please don’t stop!!!! Harder!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He could feel her hips meeting his as she repeatedly fucked herself on his cock, sweet hell, he could die happily like this. He squeezed her sexy ass harder as he pulled her down onto him. “Fucking hell, ya keep this up babygirl...Daddy’s gonna cum so hard for you...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She practically purred at the sound of that. “Yes, Daddy! I want to make you cum...” her lips trail across his skin, painting kisses across every inch she could reach, working a trail across his shoulder, up his neck, along his jawline to his ear. “Tell your little kitten what you want from her.” She whispered, her hips never stopping. “I’ll do anything for you, Daddy...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He arched his back for a moment at her last words, but quickly recovered and pull one of hands forward so he could play with her clit.

As his thumb pressed against her bundle of nerves slowly, circularly, he said, “Pretty big blank check ya writing me babe—shit! That’s good...”

He locked eyes with her, her smoldering gaze reflected in his own. “What I want...” he said, thrusting his hips up in time with his teasing thumb, “Is for you...to beg me to cum.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smirked confidently at his reaction to her words, but that confidence was quickly wiped off of her face. He knew her weakness in the bedroom, tortuously teasing her over sensitive clit. “Oh fuck...” she breathed out shakily, shifting her hips, creating more friction as her mouth fell open in a silent sigh of pleasure. Then his eyes were holding her captive, every word seeming important.

 _“Beg me to cum.”_ A pitiful whimper tore itself from her throat. How long would he make her beg? She was already so damn close... “Please, Daddy... Please. Your cock feels so good. Please, can I cum? I need to cum with you buried inside of me...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His request was apparently all it took for her to positively _melt_. He grinned victoriously, shoving himself harder into her with each thrust, “Well, kitten, since ya asked so nicely.... _Cum for Daddy_.” He leaned up to cover her scream with his lips.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His order threw her over the edge, her scream of pure ecstasy muffled by his kiss. Her inner walls gripped him tightly, trying to milk his cock as her thighs trembled on either side of him. She could feel each thrust dragging out that rapturous pleasure, her nails trailing down his arms, painting angry red lines in their wake. Fucking hell, she never wanted it to end! She could die wrapped in his arms at this very moment and die happy.

\----------------------------------------------------------

 _Goddamn_ , his Lydia was a hellcat in the sack, her scream the sweetest one he’d. Ever. Fuckin’. Heard. She scratched his arms and bucked her hips like she was a wild thing, and he loved every second. Her cunt gripped him so tightly, he was really only able to roll his hips into her at this point. He groaned like a man possessed, “God, Lyds, ya fuckin’ perfect—ah! I’m gonna fuckin’ cum—”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She pulled herself in close, wrapping her legs around him as she kept moving, pulling him towards his climax. “Please Daddy... give me your cum.” She whimpered adorably. “Haven’t I been good enough?” She didn’t know what possessed her during their little romp, but she was more than glad it did. This was the most amazing sex she ever had, and she was almost sad it was coming to an end.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her begging for his cum had him hurtling over the edge so fast it knocked the (metaphorical) wind out of him. He pulled her to him as tightly as possible, cradling the back of her head with one hand and splaying the other over her lower back. A few fierce grunts later and he was roaring as he filled her. He continued to pump into her as she rolled her hips, feeling like she was trying to squeeze every last drop out of him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She must have done something right in her begging, because she was pressed as close to him as possible, and he didn’t seem intent on letting her go. While his arms were like steel, his hands were tender as he cradled her head close to him and used his free hand to support her back. He was like an animal set loose, the sounds he made masculine and powerful. The sweetest little moan dropped from her lips like honey as she felt him fill her, her hips still rolling to draw out every last second of pleasure for him. Something about this man drew out the primal inside of her, the thought of his seed marking her, of him claiming her was the hottest fucking thing she had ever experienced. “Thank you, Daddy...” she purred, resting her head against his shoulder and placing tiny kisses across his throat.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His brain took a few moments to clear, but eventually he became aware of her peppering kisses across his skin and cooing sweet words in his ear. “Jesus H. Christ, Lyds, I think ya almost killed me,” he said with a chuckle.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smiled a bit, playfully nipping his shoulder. “You’re one to talk... that was fucking amazing.” She whispered, her hands soothing over the scratches she had left on his arms. She was still a bit hazy from all the pleasure, but she loved it. Her eyes twinkled in a way they hadn’t since they had locked her up in this hellhole, her skin flushed from exertion, her hair falling over her shoulders and down her back artlessly. She felt like herself, if even for a few minutes.

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He saw some slight shivers travel through her body and misinterpreted them, “Hey, sorry, babes. I know I’m kinda chilly.” With a snap, the crumpled comforter on the floor was draped over the pair. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Glad ya enjoyed yaself. Seemed to stay with me the whole time, yeah? Felt okay?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She pulled the fluffy comforter even closer, snuggling up to him. She was touched by how thoughtful he was when it came to her. She leaned into the little kiss, grinning adorably. “Yeah... except for that little bit at first where memories tried to sneak up on me, but...” She was still touched by the sweet things he had said, pesky feelings trying to show their faces. “You said just the right thing. Made them go away.” She smiled weakly. “Thank you. And the rest of it was amazing.”

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He pulled a lit cigarette out of the ether and took the deepest drag of his whole undead life. “I was hoping I could make this good for ya. Glad ya...glad ya stayed with me. I care ‘bout ya.” He felt her pick her head off of his shoulder and look into his eyes. He didn’t break eye contact, but still offered her a smoke.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She took the offer, bringing the cigarette to her lips for a long drag. “You did.” She assured softly, her fingers coming up to trace his jawline. “You made it good, and you made me feel safe, and cherished...” she smiled a little bit, slightly embarrassed. “It was everything I needed from you, and even some things I wanted. I really... god, I’m such a sap right now, but I appreciate it. I can’t thank you enough.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He leaned into her petting the stubble on his jawline, humming lowly as he did. Shooting a rare, genuine smile at her, he quickly replaced it with a smarmy grin. “Ya can thank me after round five,” he quipped with a wink. He lifted her slightly and tucked her into his side, finally slipping out of her and watching a string of his cum still connect then until it split. He blinked rapidly before muttering, “Holy fuckin’ shit, that’s hot...”

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She couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at his comment, snuggling close to his side and resting her head on his chest. “Did the other girls not let you do that? Or is it hot because it’s me?” She teased, running her nails across his chest.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Course it’s you babes,” he paused for another long drag. “I mean, I do that all the time, no ghost ever has ta worry ‘bout gettin’ knocked up. And I haven’t had a living human who could see me in decades. But you,” he left the cigarette in his mouth long enough to boop her nose before removing it, “Ya so fuckin’ warm, and soft, and... Yknow—so Lydia.”

He gave her a cheeky look out of the corner of his eye, “Gettin’ hard again just thinking ‘bout ya sporting my hickeys and having ya thighs covered from me cumming in ya.”

His eyes focused on the ceiling as something feral crossed his expression, “Fuckin’ like ta see someone try shit with ya now. I’ll hurl ‘em to Saturn so quick their skulls’ll spin.”

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“Hmm... god forbid I not be so Lydia.” She teased, wrinkling her nose up in a playful gesture as he booped it. “I hope that being a human doesn’t mean I _do_ have to worry about getting knocked up. Not that I don’t want a kid someday, but I’m still young and I’m not having them in prison.” She stretched out comfortably, tangling her legs with his as she closed her eyes. His growled threat to any would-be attackers caused her to smile. “Lucky me for having such a devoted protector.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He shook his head as he exhaled smoke, “Na, never heard of it working that way, ya ain’t gotta worry bout that. I’m undead. How the hell does a demon give life ta something? Takin’ it’s no problem though.” A laugh snuck past his lips.

He gave a playful nip to her throat, aggravating one of her hickeys. “Looks like I’ll have ya steal ya away after all, if I’m really gonna keep ya safe.”

He shifted lower on the cot, leaving a new hickey on the side of one of her breasts. “But c’mon babes,” he said with a pervy grin, “ya can’t tell me ya don’t find _this_ ,” he dragged a finger up and down her slick thighs, “sexy as hell?”

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She whined adorably at having her makeshift pillow taken away by his moving, but he quickly made up for it. A pretty little moan worked its way past her lips at his attentions, watching him. “I never said I _didn’t_ find it sexy. There was just a more pressing question.” She teased, running her fingers through his hair. “Now that I know we’re good on that front, I can enjoy myself even more.”

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He leaned back up and kissed her hard, nibbling at her lower lip, one hand fisting in her hair and tugging her head back slightly, “Tell me. Tell me that ya find it sexy. I want ta hear it. Like I marked ya as mine.” He growled against the graceful slope of her neck.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She shivered lightly, trembling beneath the heat of his kiss. “I do... I do find it sexy. I love being marked as yours, Daddy.” She purred, looking at him with a burning gaze.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Fuck, Lyds!” he crashed his lips to hers again, and again, and again. When she pulled away to breathe, he gave her a dirty grin, “Wanna go for round two?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was almost delirious from lack of oxygen by the time he released her from the kiss, chuckling breathlessly. “As long as you remember I have to breathe...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He waved her statement away childishly, “Details, details.” Before pulling her in for another set of ravishing kisses.

He pulled back for a moment and looked around cell, “C’mon Beetle, you can do better than this,” he muttered to himself. In a series of snaps: the fourth wall of the cell disappeared again, the pair of them were suddenly in one of the nicer, furnished offices at the front of the prison, the lights were killed, and the door locked.

The blanket fell to the floor, but Lydia stayed put, caught between him and the wall, legs around his hips. He laughed almost gleefully before nipping at her collarbone. “Lady’s choice: against the wall or over the desk?”


	8. Chapter 8

She felt like her head was spinning, a whirlwind of things all seeming to happen at once. One minute they were making out on the uncomfortable prison cot, the next she was pinned between him and a wall. An excited little giggle fell past her lips as his teeth grazed her collar bone. “Against the wall. We’re already here, and I have a feeling you aren’t very patient right now.”

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With a crazed smile as his only response, his lips fell to her breasts, sucking and biting at both of her nipples in turn. He situated her higher on his hips, positioned himself just inside her entrance, and waited for her to roll her hips or whine or outright beg for the rest.

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She groaned, his lips on her breasts almost painful from how sensitive they are. “Jesus fuck, Bee...” she breathes out, her fingers tugging his hair. She was so enthralled by his attentions, that it took her a moment to notice he was just teasing her. Her hips shifted, trying to bring him in deeper. “Don’t tease me... please... I need you.”

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He pulled his head back up to kiss along her jaw, “Ya said please so _youuu got it, babes_.” With that, he stopped supporting a good portion of her weight and let her drop fully onto him with a moan. She had him buried in her to the hilt, withher propped up between his cold body and the cool surface of the wall.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Lydia let out a low moan, her eyes fluttering at the sensation as gravity pulled her down to the base of his cock. “Shit... you’re so big, Bee.” It was a tight fit, the way he had her pressed against the wall leaving very little wiggle room for her to move, but she was determined not to let that get in her way. Her hips started to roll slowly, her eyes gazing up at him, cataloguing every reaction for future use. If he already knew just how to drive her wild, she needed to start studying.

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It was his _expert opinion_ that the sexiest thing in the whole goddamn world was the face she made each time he initially entered her. The comment she made right after would have given him an ego boost... if it possible to boost it further.

Her new term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed. “Fuckin’ love it when ya call me that...ah!” Having someone give him a nickname had never happened before. Was this a kink? The fuck? He felt her strain her muscles to move against him and something snapped inside him. The power dynamic became apparent in that moment and he was suddenly aware of how malleable she was, how fragile, and how submissive he could make her. “Fuck, Lyds, ya so tiny—it’s so fuckin’ sexy. Like a little fuckin’ doll, swear ta god.” He gripped her by the ass and held her still while he began to thrust up inside her mercilessly.

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She was immobilized by his strength, unable to do anything but _feel_ , each thrust seeming more relentless than the last. “Jesus FUCK!” She cried out, the sound dying into a whimper. The things he said were enough to bend her to his will. She could be his, his tiny little doll, anything he wanted as long as he kept fucking her like this.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He sucked another hickey on one of breasts while one of his hands wandered up to her neck. He gripped her throat, barely squeezing, aware that he might scare her.

He snarled against her soft, pale skin as he fought back his darker impulses. He wanted her in a collar, in every position, as rough and savage and wild as he could be. He wanted scratches, bruises, handprints, welts.... but she wasn’t ready.

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She tenses up for the slightest of seconds, whimpering at the sensation of a hand around her throat. A split second of terror rushes through her. The things she had seen those hands do to the people who would hurt her... no. No, she wouldn’t be hurt. He wouldn’t hurt her. She kept repeating the thought in her mind, forcing herself to keep from panicking. If she was trembling a bit more than usual? Well, hopefully he would attribute it to the way he was mercilessly fucking her into the wall.

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Try as she might to hide it, he noticed the sudden rigidity in her spine. He released her throat and tangled her hair around his claws instead. He yanked down until her head was pinned to the wall and focused solely on how frantically he could fuck her brains out. His thrusts were relentless, shoving himself as deeply into her tight little body as he could before withdrawing and repeating.

He nipped at her ear before he ground out, “How does it feel, being so full babygirl? Doesn’t Daddy fuck you just right?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Feeling his hand drift away from her throat allowed her to enjoy herself fully again, that unfounded fear fading away. He didn’t give her much time to recover, though, pulling her hair back as a moan followed. Fuck, he knew all of her sweet spots already! That just wasn’t fair... She was driven higher and higher towards that inescapable peak by his endless thrusts. It was like she was just a doll for his pleasure, and as demeaning as the thought was, it was making her wetter by the second. He nipped her ear and a squeak of surprise escaped, causing her to jolt back to his questions. “It’s so fucking good, Daddy! You know just what to do... I never want you to stop. I’m all yours! Your babygirl!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She released a long, loud moan that trailed off to a whimper at having her hair pulled harshly. Duly fuckin’ noted, kitten. He snarled brokenly against her throat, “Fuckin’ hell, babygirl, ya so wet for Daddy... Yknow, I don’t have ta stop... Don’t have ya limits... I could fuck ya for a week straight...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

That comment caused her to whimper. Sure, she could see herself being insatiable when it came to him. But a week straight? A girl had her limits. But what she wanted didn’t matter at the moment. She had to be sure _he_ was getting what he needed from her. She didn’t want him running off with some other girl... “Whatever you want, Daddy. I’ll do whatever you want.” She cried, arching her back as she felt herself on the edge of that glorious precipice.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her submissiveness to his threat set him off, he bit into her shoulder hard and redoubled his efforts. With a hand fisted in her hair and the other supporting her weight, the only other thing he could to stimulate her was try to hit that spot... And when he found it, he fucking drove her into the wall at that angle.

“C’mon, kitten, scream for me... Say my fuckin’ name, beautiful...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

It didn’t take her long to submit to that request as well. She was lost in a whirlwind of sensation, pain and pleasure melding together into one unstoppable beast. “Oh god... yes.. yesss... FUCK! Beetlejuice!” She screamed, his teeth driving her over the edge as he pounded relentlessly against that spot that made her see stars. Her legs tightened around him, holding herself close as her inner walls fluttered and clenched around his member, milking him for every moment of pleasure she could get.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He felt her heels digging into his back, felt her cunt wrapped around him so tightly that all he could do was desperately roll his hips into her. “Jesus, fuck! Yes...fucking hell...Lyds!” His impending climax made his blood boil. He tucked his face against her neck and shouted his release, feverish grunts passing through his lips as he came inside her like a tidal wave, beating his hips against hers like a madman.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She could only let out broken whimpers as he pounded into her with a bruising force, spilling himself deep within her. Once again, that small primal part of her woke, stretching like a satisfied cat in the corner of her mind. She pulled him up to crush her lips to his in a needy kiss, not ready to let go of the moment yet, but unsure if she could handle another round.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Returning her feverish kisses, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, wanting to taste as much of her as possible.

Slowly, he slipped out of her with a squelch, still hard as a rock, and eased her down to the ground. A possessive purr rumbled through his chest at how horribly debauched he had made her look.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She tangled her tongue with his, her legs shaking as they were lowered to the ground. If it weren’t for her death grip on him she would have collapsed. Fucking hell, he knew how to show a girl a good time, even if it left her a mess when it was all over.

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Shit, he’d really done a number on her, hadn’t he? Her legs were shaking, her pale flesh littered with hickeys and her hips covered in blossoming bruises, her lips swollen, her hair a tangled mess. Far from sorry, he felt proud of the claim he had staked, his favorite part by far was seeing remnants of his cum dribble down her shivering thighs.

He grinned before pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss against one of the hickeys on her neck, “Need a shower, kitten?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She nodded dumbly, looking adorably affected by the small form of affection. Her eyes lit up like he had given her the best gift he could have ever given. “You’ll keep an eye out? Make sure no one else comes in?” She asked quietly, still a bit scarred from her encounter in the showers.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The look in her eyes didn’t escape him, but he quickly became preoccupied with the nervous tone in her voice. He smiled, “Well, everyone’s in lockdown for the night, but I’ll do ya one better—”

Snap!—they were in the showers, hot water already running. With a flick of his wrist, the door serving as an entrance/exit straight up sunk into the wall. Another snap and a shelf appeared on the shower stall wall, stuffed full of every product he could ever remember women using in the past century.

He resumed pressing kisses along her shoulder and the back of her neck, settled in snugly against her back. Against his better judgement, he was giving her a break, but it didn’t mean he was gonna stop feeling her up. She seemed fine with it.

He reveled in the little whimpers he could draw out of her.

Admittedly, his reasoning for offering a shower was a selfish one. He busied himself with groping as much of her as his hands could cover while letting out a contented hum against her head.

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She couldn’t hide the contented sigh at the sensation of hot water running over her skin. She felt all sticky and gross, but it also soothed her sore muscles. Apparently being in prison, being beaten multiple times, having people force themselves on you and then having moderately rough sex could leave you sore. Who would have guessed? The water felt so good that she decided then and there that the first thing she would do when she got out of prison was take a nice, long bath. The idea of luxuriating in a tub full of bubbles was almost enough to draw a moan from her lips. Grabbing the shampoo, Lydia poured some in her hand and lathered up her hair, making sure to be careful of where it was still tender. “This is wonderful, Bee... Thank you.” She whispered, letting the rose scented soap rinse from her hair as she reached for the conditioner. The only thing missing was... a ha! A comb! She picked it up, beginning to carefully work through the tangles and snarls that had firmly planted roots in the ebony locks. She couldn’t help but giggle at his fascination with touching her. It was like once he started, he never wanted to stop... “You know, I’m not the one in danger of disappearing here,” she teased lightly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He slipped his hands down to her ass with a chuckle, “Can’t help myself when ya built like this, babes.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smirked, playfully smacking at his hands. “Perv. Just want one thing now...” She turned her attention back to fixing the tangles in her hair, combing in slow, sure strokes.

\----------------------------------------------------------

In a flash, he was fully clothed, leaning against the wall facing her shower, taking one hell of a hit off a freshly lit blunt. “Fine, I’ll just enjoy the show...” He ended the thought with a wolf whistle.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She frowned despite herself, suddenly feeling like he was too far away. She was only joking... She had enjoyed his hands on her. But at least this gave her time to clean up. She leaned her head back under the water, rinsing her hair. She then took some body wash, lathering it between her hands. Maybe she would give him a show, she decided. She deliberately ran her hands across her bare skin, letting out soft little gasps and moans as she fixed him with a teasing stare. “You know, you’re missing out over here, Daddy... What a shame.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His eyes darkened and he palmed himself over his trousers. His gravely voice echoed off the tiled walls, “Nah, princess... Think I got a perfect front row seat here...” Her body was fuckin’ _everything_. Despite her being so petite, her legs were long and pale and so fuckin’ creamy. His eyes snapped back up to hers, “Touch yaself for Daddy.”

He was personally torn between fucking her against another wall or full on jerking himself off to her showering. Honestly a coin flip could come in handy.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her eyes widened in surprise. Touch herself? Like... in front of him? That was a new one. She hadn’t ever thought to try that before. But the look in his eyes left no room for doubt or argument. Slowly, ever so tortuously slowly, she ran her hands up her body. From her thighs, up across her hips, her waist... she came to cup her breasts, slowly kneading them as she let herself feel, truly learn what felt good.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He let out an aggressive snarl watching her hands squeeze her own breasts. His erection pressed painfully against the teeth of his zipper and he palmed himself at the root of his cock a little harder. Looks like she made his mind up for him. Without taking his eyes off her breasts, he started unbuckling his belt. Growling out an order, he got her attention with, “Tell Daddy what ya wish he was doing, kitten...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She let out a little sigh of pleasure, bringing two fingers up to toy with her nipple. “I wish you were touching me, Daddy.” She whispered breathlessly. “I wish you were marking me as yours, using your teeth on my skin. I love it when you mark me up, make me all yours.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He remained as smug as ever as he drew down his zipper, “What if I decide not ta touch ya for a while?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She let out a whimper of disappointment. “But Daddy!!! I’m such a good girl for you, and if the marks fade away people won’t know that I’m yours. You’ll get jealous again... And my hands can’t do the things you do.”

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He outright laughed, “I made ya neck look like a Jackson Pollock, babes. I think ya good and claimed.” His gaze was still as heated as hers as he crooked a finger towards himself. “C’mere and mark me for yaself, my lil’ doll.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She practically purred at the idea, prancing over to him. “You’re sure, Daddy?” She asked sweetly, the new name sending shivers down her spine. His little doll... she could get used to that. She wrapped her arms around him, standing on her tiptoes to place soft kisses along his shoulder to the bare skin of his throat, biting him just hard enough to leave a mark.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Seeing her shiver made him even harder, impossibly. He forced her chin upward with a blackened, sharp nail. “Ya like that, babygirl? Wanna be my little sex doll? Want me ta fuckin’ rag doll ya, fuck ya goddamn brains out...?” He grinned at her soft attempts to bruise his flesh. Being someone else’s? The thought was still foreign to him. But if it were her... Lydia—

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and excited. “Yes...” she whispered breathlessly. “I’ll be anything you want me to be, Daddy.” She began to suck at his neck over where she had bitten him, determined to leave a mark on his skin. She was still in an obedient mindset, and he had told her to mark him. She wouldn’t fail him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His fingers sifted through her hair before gripping it and pulling it tight, forcing her to look at him again. “Then I’m gonna ask ya the same thing ya asked me. Do you want ya lips around me? Or do ya want me to fuck ya brainless again?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She couldn’t help but let out a cry of shock at the suddenness of him pulling her hair. She looked up at him, worry in her expression. Had she done something wrong? Was he angry? But his question brought her out of that fear. “Lips...” she breathed as an answer, unsure if she could handle another round of being fucked ruthlessly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He pulled her into a passionate kiss, one hand holding her in place by her chin, the other pinning her skinny little waist against his belly. Pulling back just far enough to look her in the eye, he purred, “Ya such a good girl for Daddy. Get ta work, kitten.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She practically melted under the passion of the kiss, purring from his attentions. Surprisingly unbothered by the way he held her captive, she obeyed his order. Slowly sinking to her knees before him, she pressed a trail of kisses along the way, her hand delicately rubbing his bulge through his pants. “Is this good, Daddy?” She cooed innocently, looking up at him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He couldn’t stop his hips from bucking into her hand just once before he regained control. Here she was, naked and wet and sudsy, kneeling in front of him, calling him Daddy. Almighty Christ, this was sexy as hell.

“I think ya know that it’s good, kitten. Now, c’mon. Beg Daddy.” He said, walking the line between cloying and authoritative.

He reached down and finished undoing his pants, freeing his dick from its confines and starting to stroke himself. “Ya gotta ask for it like a good girl.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked up at him, pouting adorably at this new information. She had to beg? But she had been such a good girl for him... Nevertheless, beg she did. Her hands came to rest against his thighs, her warmth cutting through the fabric. “Pleeeeeeease, Daddy?” She cooed, giving him the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. “I just want to make you feel good. Can I please have your cock?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He hadn’t been sure if she’d go along with it, so when she did, his brain short-circuited and he broke character. “Sweet Satan, when ya look like that babygirl, I’d give ya my soul if I had one.”

The hand wrapped around his cock slowed to a stop and his free hand stroked her hair almost like petting a kitten. “Daddy says go ahead, babygirl.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

Between the praise and him petting her hair, she was smiling brightly. As always, she leaned into his touch for a moment, savoring the affection, her eyes drifting closed. A kind hand was so rare in their current location, and even if he treated her like this every day, she wasn’t taking it for granted. It could disappear in a moment. At his go ahead, she brought her hand up to stroke him slowly, considering how she wanted to please him. There were so many little variables that could make him feel as amazing as he did her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

It was abso-fucking-lutely bizarre, the way she reacted to him touching her so innocently. Since when did people _want_ to touch him? Yknow, besides when he fucked the shit outta them— His eyes stayed locked on her, debating whether or not to hurry her along. Was she still skittish? Could he get aggressive? Fuck if he knew, he usually picked the wrong answer.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked at him sweetly, a little gleam of mischief in her eye as she dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock, never breaking eye contact. She hoped that this would drive him crazy, make him feel the same way she did when he teased her. Unfortunately for her plan, Lydia was obedient to a fault when it didn’t scare her. She soon slipped the tip past her lips, taking him in slowly in an attempt to see how much she could fit.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He dropped his head back against the wall and groaned after seeing her little show with her tongue. “Ya so fuckin’ warm, kitten...” When she started to slide his shaft into her mouth, his hand clenched a little tighter in her wet locks, nails scraping along her scalp pleasantly.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She purred sweetly at the sensation of his nails across her scalp. He always seemed to know how to make her feel good, be it sexual or not. Encouraged by his reaction, she pulled him in deeper, relaxing her throat to see if she could take all of him. It wasn’t easy, her body fighting her at first, wanting to pull back and run as she forced herself onwards. She wouldn’t quit, though. Not this time.

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He clawed savagely at his thigh with his free hand, fighting every fiber of his being begging him to start fucking her throat. “Christ, Lyds! T-that’s it...just like that...fuuuuck yes...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She pulled back to the tip, dragging her tongue along his length again before swirling it around the head. Her eyes flashed up to meet his gaze, wanting to see his expression. She wasn’t the most confident when it came to oral sex, and his reactions encouraged her.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His hips jerked forward as she drew back and laved the tip with her tongue. When she looked up, she must’ve seen the wild, almost unhinged look in his eyes, because she whimpered as she sucked on him. Shit! That fucking sound and the vibrations that came with it...

“Ya got no idea what ya doing to me, babes... I can fuckin’ barely keep myself pinned down here...” He summoned a cigarette and took a deep drag to calm himself. Couldn’t help it.

\----------------------------------------------------------

His gaze was enough to drive a girl insane. She must be doing a better job than she thought, if he was reacting like this. She reached up with her hand, placing it over the hand he had fisted in her hair, hoping he understood. She was willing to let him be controlling, to try submitting to him in this way. After all, he had stopped before when she asked, had comforted her through the worst of things. He wouldn’t push her past her limits.

\----------------------------------------------------------

A possessive growl clawed its way past his lips at her silent permission. What a fuckin’ blank check to write. This girl was a wunderkind, a shittin’ sexual gift from Satan. Also, maybe waaaay too trusting. He gripped her chin, pulling her back far enough to let him slip out of her mouth. He flicked his cigarette off to the side. Pressing his thumb down on her tongue, his eyes gave a nonverbal command. _Suck_.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Her eyes were wide as she followed his instruction, wrapping her lips around his thumb and sucking lightly. She was quickly finding that she liked when he was in charge. She didn’t have to worry about doing something wrong as long as she listened to him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She looked so damn innocent, even like this, it was obscene. “Ya such a good girl, Lydia.” A smirk curled up one side of his lips at using her full name in such a dirty setting. He pulled his finger from her mouth, gripping her jaw again and squeezing lightly to open it. She stuck her tongue out as he guided himself back into the warm paradise of her mouth and the sight almost made his knees buckle.

“Open up, just like that... perfect, kitten...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She made sure to use her tongue more, seeing how much he liked it. She decided to start a slow rhythm, moving her head along his length as she sucked. Her ears listened closely for every sound, ready to stop or make a change at a moment’s notice.

\----------------------------------------------------------

A litany of moans and grunts tumbled from his lips as she started sucking again. His hold on her hair pulled taut and kept her head in place for a moment. While holding her still, he began slow, rolling thrusts into her mouth. “Fuck, babygirl...take Daddy’s cock...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She remained still, looking up at him as she took his member into her mouth. She shivered lightly, practically purring when he called her babygirl. A girl could get used to this... she ran her tongue along his length as he pulled out, flicking it quickly over the tip.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Holy shit, she was enjoying herself. He pulled her hair tighter and picked up his speed, neither fully withdrawing from her mouth nor forcing himself all the way in.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She hummed softly around him, taking each thrust as she continued to tease him with her tongue and suction. She just wanted to make him feel amazing, wanted him to see stars and grunt out her name in that choked, awestruck tone she had quickly come to love. Her delicate hands gripped his thighs tightly, digging her nails in through the fabric, giving him that little extra oomph.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Falling back against the wall, he let her continue blowing him on her own as he hissed at the delicious pain in his thighs. He sucked in air he didn’t need as he let her pleasure him, fully indulging in her desire to please him. One hand kept petting her hair as the other brought a fresh cig to his mouth. After a few minutes, he ditched the cigarette and laced both hands in her damp locks, steadily pulling her forward. If she wanted him to stop, she could pull back, but his desire was clear.

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She was content to give him everything she had, and as soon as his hands came to rest on her head she understood. Her eyes looked up to him, open and trusting as her answer. She relaxed her jaw, giving him free reign. Trust was a two way street, and if she wanted him to really trust her and tell her what they needed to get out of here, then she had to show him she trusted him.

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He slid his cock further into her mouth, waiting to feel resistance, to hear her gag. Nothing so far, except warmth and soaking softness. Halfway there, she gagged slightly but seemed fine. Pushing forward, pulling her face closer to his groin, he felt her throat get tighter. He locked eyes with her but she wasn’t trying to move back. Slowly, he slid three more inches in. He knew he was thick, but she was taking it like a fuckin’ champ. “One more inch baby, ya got this,” he bit out through gritted teeth.

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She tried her hardest to stay relaxed, to breathe through her nose as he moved himself deeper into her. When he reached her throat, she tensed up for the briefest of moments. No... no she wouldn’t do this now. Lydia gripped his thighs tighter, locking her gaze to his as she took a deep, shaky breath. After what felt like an eternity to her, she relaxed, giving him permission to continue on.

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He felt his head hit the back of her throat and she gagged somewhat, but he heard her inhale deeply through her nose as she fought to relax those muscles. She fixed him with a determined look in those molten eyes, every bit the spitfire he knew she was. With pressure on the back of her head and a persistent thrust, he finally sunk his cock fully into her throat with a ‘pop’. He saw white behind his eyelids, releasing a strangled groan at the feeling of her muscles clamping down on him. This tiny little angel had him buried balls deep in her mouth and he was in fuckin’ paradise. Christ, had he ever been blown this good?

“Fucking shit, Lyds! ...ah... such a good little sub for Daddy... betcha love this, don’t ya babygirl?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She practically purred at the praise. Something about him calling her a sub send a thrill through her chest. Maybe it wasn’t some huge declaration of love, but then again, neither of them were much the type for that. But it was a small commitment, some hope that he wouldn’t abandon her as soon as they were out of the prison.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He was holding her in place, nose pressed to his groin and her chin resting against his balls, his cock wrapped in the _utter bliss_ that was her throat. Then he felt her tap against his thigh and remembered her actual need for air. He released his grip immediately and she sat back to breathe. “Sorry, babes, went a bit into overtime there.”

He stroked her hair again, this time with two hands as she rested her cheek against his thigh to catch her breath.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She gasped for air, her vision fuzzy around the edges for a moment as she rested her cheek against the slightly rough fabric of his pants. “Shit, Bee... thought you didn’t want me dead.” She teased breathlessly, a little smile quirking the corner of her lips as she closed her eyes. “You’re fucking insatiable, aren’t you?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

A chuckle rumbled through him, “I’m a demon straight from hell, ain’t found my limit yet.” He tilted her head up with a hand on her cheek. “Ya can tap out babygirl, ya did great.”

His thumb drifted along her spit-slicked bottom lip. “Let’s go finish ya shower, kitten.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She smiled sweetly, playfully nipping at his thumb. “A shower sounds wonderful, but to be honest with you, I can’t _wait_ for the chance to take a nice, long bubble bath.” She stood, making her way over to the shower again, determined to finish cleaning up and then get some much deserved rest.

\----------------------------------------------------------

As she walked away from him, a rapid fire series of thoughts went through his head. Bubble bath. When she gets out. Getting out. Having to tell her what that entails. Getting married? Him failing to convince her. Her freaking out. Flat-out rejection. Being trapped still, but this time, with her within arms reach. Wanting nothing to do with him.

He shook his head violently as he tucked himself back in his trowsers, still hard (but what else is new?). She would strike the deal. She had to. She would. Fucking period. He was the supreme conman, who was gonna say no to him??

He watched her step into the steaming hot water.

She might.


	9. Chapter 9

She stepped under the water, sighing happily as she made quick work of cleaning herself. Despite herself, she had let her guard down around him. She would do almost anything he asked. She trusted him. She cared about him. She shook her head quickly, trying to distract herself from her train of thoughts before it went too far. Demons didn’t tie themselves to skinny little nobodies like her.

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He slid his arms around her waist and tucked his face into her neck. “Babygirl, whaddya think ya doing?” Trailing kisses across her shoulder and up her jawline, he nipped her ear, “Ya think Daddy’s not gonna take care of ya now? After that?” With one arm holding her up against him, he used his free hand under the hot water to comb out any tangles he’d set in her hair. He knew she’d already finished with her hair, so he filled a palm with bodywash and slowly slid his hands over every bare inch of skin. His thumbs worked out the kinks in her shoulders, his palms drifted across her arms and waist and back. He even bent to wash her knees, the skin still red and agitated from kneeling on old, warped tile to please him. Eventually, he let a few fingers slip between her legs, where he could still discern her sticky wetness from the water and he growled in her ear, “Didya get wet just from sucking Daddy’s cock?”

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She eased into his touch as soon as his arms were around her waist, allowing herself to relax. The kisses made her smile, biting her lip against a giggle when he nipped her. He did fulfill his promise to take care of her, his hands massaging every inch of her skin with sweet-smelling soaps and working out the sore muscles. It was enough to make a girl drowsy and mindless. However, his growl snapped her right back to attention. “Y-yes, Daddy... you kept calling me babygirl and kitten and saying I was doing so good...” She blushed prettily.

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She melted against him and his ears caught her suppressed giggle. Jesus fuck—this girl was adorable. Since when was adorable a good thing?? Ah, fuck him.

He purred, lips pressing against the back of her neck, planting kisses along the top of her spine. “Ya made Daddy so happy, he’s just gonna have ta spoil ya tomorrow...” He teased a fingertip around her entrance before just gently rubbing her sensitive flesh clean.

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She smiled, shifting her hair to give him better access to her throat, silently asking for more kisses. “Hmm... and how are you planning on doing that, Daddy?” She asked sweetly, her breath catching in her throat from the momentary teasing.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He laughed loudly before continuing to nibble and suck on her skin, paying special attention to the hickeys littering her throat. “No fun if ya know ahead a’ time, doll. Now c’mon,” a snap landed them on her cot, with her covered in warm set of standard prison wear. “Ya gotta sleep, babes. Sun’s almost up.”

Screams, hollers, and shouts burst through the bars from down the corridors, sounding sweet as hell. He tucked her against his larger frame, pulled her tight to him like she might run off. “I may have just let a couple cell blocks loose. Y’all be in lockdown all day. Sleep in as long as ya like, babygirl.”

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She didn’t argue, mainly because she was exhausted from their multiple trysts. Her head came to rest against his chest as usual, her eyes closing. “Mmm... thank you, Bee.” She whispered, drifting off to the lullaby of cacophonous chaos.

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He felt her breath against his chest, even through his shirt, warm and heavy and _alive_. Tonight he’d strike the deal. Spend the whole day buttering her up, then swoop in with the offer to add freedom to her list of benefits for doing business with him.

He held her for a while, letting his thoughts go wild while he stroked her hair. His mind ran the gauntlet from what the rooftops of Rome would feel like to him again all the way to how fun it’d be to screw his lil’ kitten on the beaches of Hawaii.

Hours drifted by until he decided he needed to start setting his plans in motion. Letting her slowly slip onto the cot itself, he was gone in a flash. Shit ain’t gonna get itself done. “Be back, babes. Sit tight.” And with that, he left behind only a small flash of green light.

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Lydia slept through most of the day, her eyes not opening until well into the afternoon. She sat up slowly, a pleasant ache in her muscles as she stretched. She had done it... she was able to sleep with him fully, more than once apparently. More than that, she was able to give him control. That was something she hand even considered a possibility. She swung her legs over the edge of the cot, glancing towards the window, the sun streaming through the panes and leaving spots of light on the floor. She could instantly tell something was missing. No... not something. Someone. “Bee?” She called carefully.

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After spending a few hours cutting out camera feeds and getting guards cut loose for the day (going into comas, vomiting blood, suffering hallucinations... y’know, standard stuff), Beetlejuice popped back into existence in Lydia’s cell. To his surprise, she was already awake, reading idly and looking cute as shit doing it. “Hey babes, sleep okay?”

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She had settled in after a few minutes of his not responding, figuring he was busy. She had grabbed one of the books he had spirited away from the library for her, settling against the wall and opening it to the space she left off, allowing herself to be lost in the story. She wasn’t sure how long she was there before he returned, looking up at the sound of his voice. “Bee! You’re back.” The brightest smile lit up her face as she set her book down.

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He cackled and shook his head, “Thought ya were rid of me that easy? No fuckin’ chance, babydoll.” With a flick of his wrist, her book was returned to its hidden space and with another, a table burst into existence before her, littered with enough food to feed the whole prison. A smug grin split his face, “I _recall_ ya liking Italian, but I’m feelin’ French right now.” Spread across the tabletop were soups, soufflés, crepes, quiches, crème brûlées, eclairs, and a fucking _mountain_ of macrons. As she sat with her mouth gaping, he quirked and eyebrow and joked, “Did I miss somethin’?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She let out a little gasp of indignation when her book was whisked away, but it was quickly replaced with wide eyed wonder at the sudden feast before her. “Christ, Bee... you weren’t joking when you said spoiled.” She gave a half chuckle, looking up at him. “And to what do I owe all of this special treatment, hmm? I know I’m not _that_ good in bed.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He plucked an oyster (slimy enough to appeal to him) from a bowl of bouillabaisse and swallowed it whole. “First of all, babes, fuck that shit, cause ya are.”

“I told ya, ya got heaven ‘tween ya legs and that was before I even got ta really feel that _mouth of yours_.” He appeared beside her on the cot with his hand wrapped around her throat, but with no pressure. He whispered in his typical, low, gravely voice directly into her ear, “Besides, ya made Daddy so proud takin’ him all the way down ya throat...”

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“If you insist on lying to yourself.” She teased lightly, picking a random soup and trying it. She had never tried French food before that she knew of. Well, unless French fries counted, but she was almost positive they didn’t. She had picked up a spoon to try the food, only to let out a little gasp of surprise and drop it at the suddenness of his hand around her throat. She shivered lightly at the sound of his voice so close to her. “You can be very persuasive, you know.” She whispered, throwing her own tone of seduction into the mix. “Could probably make a girl do anything with the right words...”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He purred back at her, “Babygirl, ya could make a man jump off a cliff if ya just looked at ‘im right.” He licked slowly up her neck before sucking a fresh hickey right over her pulse point. “How’s Daddy suppose to keep up?” With that, he sunk his fangs into her tender flesh.

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Her breath hitched in her throat at the attention, her eyes fluttering as he marked her yet again. But the real kicker was the fangs. Somehow, he had found a desire she didn’t even know she had, the sharp pain drawing a shaky gasp that dissolved into a low moan. “How about—we both agree—that we’re good at this?” She asked breathlessly between little whimpers.

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A thrill shot through him when she moaned at his bite. Seems his Lyds was hiding some masochism... A delicious and salacious thought crossed his mind. “Ya goddamn right we are. Put ya hands behind ya back for Daddy like a good girl.”

As soon as she did, she felt a pair of metal handcuffs click in place around them, out of thin air. He turned her face towards him with the trip of a cracked claw. He smiled cruelly, before saying in a voice that brooked no argument, “Ya only gonna eat what Daddy feeds ya.”

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She looked confused. Hadn’t she done this enough being transported from one prison to the next? But she listened, pulling her hands behind her back and placing the wrists beside each other, a practiced movement by this point. Not that it surprised her, but she did give him a little pout when the handcuffs clicked into place. He was going to restrain her too? How was that fair? But the look on his face kept her from arguing. He was in control here... She gave a simple nod of understanding, keeping her gaze locked on his.

\----------------------------------------------------------

First things first, he pulled her into a searing kiss, lips and tongues clashing, moans filling the air around them. Finally, he pulled back with her chin still in his grip and that evil smile still in place, “Tell Daddy what looks best ta ya on that table.”

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She melted into the kiss, soft little sounds escaping her as his lips crashed down onto hers, theirs tongues fighting for a dominance that he won as always. A little whine escaped her when he pulled away, her eyes opening to look up at him innocently. Gods above was there anything she wouldn’t do for him now? “I... I’m not sure what most of it is.” She admitted quietly, glancing over at the table. She only really recognized the desserts, thanks to her sweet tooth. “Um... that looks good.” She nodded towards the soup she had been about to try before.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He filled her spoon at the bowl indicated and brought it up to her lips, but before she could sip from it, he drew his hand back. “Ah ah ah. Gotta give Daddy something too. Each bite’s gonna cost ya...tell Daddy a kink ya keepin’ secret.” His evil grin only grew wider at her shocked face.

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Her eyes widened for a moment. He was going to use food to get this out of her... She wasn’t sure what she expected. “Just because I tell you doesn’t mean everything’s okay, you know.” She said softly, feeling that self-doubt creeping back in. “I could still have setbacks... but, if you must know...” she wiggles her wrists, making the handcuffs rattle as an answer.

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He brought the spoon back to her lips and allowed her to eat, mischievous eyes watching her every move. “Sure, sure. But once I getcha outta here...” he fixed her with a look, “We can do what we want, when we want. Wouldn’t ya feel pretty with leather cuffs and a cute lil’ collar, kitten?”

He held a pastel blue macaron to her mouth but kept it _just_ out of reach. “What’s a real wild one, Lydia?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She took the spoon into her mouth, glaring at him. She usually liked their little games, but this was the kind of information that should be earned... not extorted. But the sight of the macaron reminded her that she was very hungry, and he could probably keep this up a lot longer than she could hold out. “Does it matter if you can’t fulfill it?” She asked quietly, looking worried.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He raised an eyebrow but kept smiling. “Try me.”

He saw she was struggling, but found it cute. She was playing submissive, he was bribing her with food... it all seemed like harmless fun. But then her eyes started to get cloudy. Ah fuck. Well. Chalk this up to another great idea, Beetle.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again. She was embarrassed, worried he would judge her. And he was a demon for Christ’s sake! She was worried about the demon judging her for her fucking kink. But more than that... she worried he would be hurt. She didn’t want him to be hurt, but he had already told her he couldn’t do this. But the food _did_ smell good and she was hungry. “B-breeding...” she whispered, low enough that she hoped he didn’t hear. She had never told anyone this, had barely even acknowledged it herself. But it seemed right to her. She loved being marked up in the bedroom, showing off those marks, a way to say she was protected and claimed by someone who cared about her... what was that but the ultimate claiming? She pulled her chin from his grasp, looking down to keep from seeing the look in his eyes. If he was hurt, it would only be her fault.

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Alright, so his pride took a bit of a gut punch but... This was all _his_ brilliant idea. Fuckin’ hell, this was backfiring worse than him backing Priam in the Trojan War. With a snap, her wrists were free again and he set the piece of food down. Time to get things back on track, get her seeing him as an irresistible partner, not... someone who couldn’t give her what she wanted.

His chuckle came out a little too forced, but he barreled through. “Ya beat me, babes! And here I thought I had all tha kinks down period,” he said with a wink.

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As soon as she felt her restraints disappear, she knew she had fucked up. Her vision blurred with tears, her mouth opening and closing multiple times, a million different apologies on the tip of her tongue. But none came... None were anywhere near good enough. She heard the forced laugh, the sound actually making her flinch. “Bee... I...” She shook her head quickly, standing up and stepping away from him and the table. She always ended up hurting the people she cared about... She didn’t deserve any of this. She stepped over to the other side of the cell, about as far as she could get from him, giving him the space she was sure he wanted.

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Shit, shit, shit _. Fuckin’_ _backpedal_. “C’mon babes! Ya not gonna make ear all this sweet shit myself, are ya?”

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She sighed weakly, looking over at him. “I don’t want to hurt you, Bee. I... I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to say anything else that might upset this... well...” she waved between the two of them and over the table, unable to find the word to accurately express what they were. Relationship sounded too serious for the short amount of time they had been together, but fuck buddies sent a pang of disappointment through her, like it didn’t capture the depth of her feelings. Maybe he shouldn’t have sent Alex away... he could have had his little game with her. Surely, she wouldn’t have messed it up.

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He dismissed her worry with a wave of his hand, she was overthinking this. He had to nip it in the bud. “Ya didn’t say anything wrong, babes. C’mere n’ eat and let’s plan what to do afta our grand fuckin’ escape!” He needed her happy, goddammit. He popped another oyster in his mouth and lounged back against the wall, “Where’d’ya wanna hit first? Hong Kong? Berlin? _Amsterdam?_ ” He waggled his eyebrows in tandem with the last suggestion.

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She paused, looking to him worriedly, almost like she was afraid he was still going to be upset. She inched her way over to the cot, perching on the corner and reaching for a macaron. She turned the sweet over in her hands, toying with it for a few moments. “Home.” She answered quietly. “I’d want to find a place to call home, first. I mean... traveling is nice, but it’s a lot sweeter when you have somewhere to come home to, you know?” She glanced up at him, breaking the macaron in half and bringing a piece up to her mouth.

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He saw the trepidation in her eyes and his brow creased. What did she think, he was gonna hit her? He was a monster, not a lowlife dipshit. A chuckle escaped him, “Got ya heart set on somewhere in particular, sweetcheeks?”

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“Never really had the option of anywhere... Not that money’s an option, I assume? I mean, if you can do this—” She waved to the feast before them. “Somewhere quiet, away from the world. Maybe a little place up in Ireland or Scotland, where there’s plenty of open space and fresh air, but it isn’t too sunny.” She waved a pale hand. “My skin has never really agreed with the sun.”

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He twirled his wrist and just like that, a solid bar of gold both appeared and disappeared in quick succession. Leaning forward, he got within an inch of her face and whispered seductively, “I can get us whatever we need baby. _Whatever ya want, Lydia._ “

Gently grasping her hand as she whisked it through the air, he planted kisses up her arm, “Howsabout New Zealand? Lil’ cottage. Woods all around. Would that suit my lil’ heliophobe?”

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She wished she could control how she reacted when she was close to him, but her breath hitched at his closeness. He was so close that she could lean forward and crush her lips to his, but that would only end with her writhing in ecstasy beneath him again, and she was quite enjoying her little daydream. She felt him catch her hand, a surprising tenderness in the gesture before he was showering her with kisses. “I—” She stopped, her voice wavering. With a quick clearing of her throat, she tried again. “I like that idea. Could it have a window seat? A little reading nook?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He smirked against her skin. He couldn’t help it, it was so easy to please her. Without a pause in planting kisses back down to her hand, he agreed, “Just like I made for you in the library. Ya want a lake ta look out on?” Girls like that shit, right?

Holding back on his desire to pound her straight into the cot, he kept painting her a picture with a syrupy tone that clashed comically with his gravely voice.

“Enough books ta keep ya busy for the first century?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She sighed happily, her posture finally relaxing. “It all sounds perfect, Bee... A little clearing with the house and the lake, warm enough to swim when the sun is out.” She smiled over at him sweetly and teased, “You say all this, make all these plans like you already know that I’m going to do what it takes to get us out of here. Or are you just tempting me?”

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He laughed with an evil smile and couldn’t help but let his eyes shift, his pupils shrinking to vertical slits, as if his snake form was lurking just below the surface. He used his hold on her wrist to pull her close to him. “ _Me_? Temptin’ ya? Baby, just call this shithole Eden and yaself Eve, cause I’m willing ta offer anything ya could ever want.”

A kiss to her lips, “Ya want another house? Wanna be in a valley in Switzerlan’?” Another two to her jawline. “Wanna vacation in Jamaica?” A few more to her neck, “Ya wanna haunt a Victorian mansion?” A sharp bite into her flesh, followed by a lapping tongue, “With me? Ya just gotta say it. I’ll give it ta ya.”

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She watched in fascination as his pupils changed, always amazed by each new trick. She didn’t notice him pulling her in until she was pressed flush to him, smiling a bit. “Well, you’re certainly fitting the part.” She teased lightly, immediately after being showered with kisses. He was offering so much, and she was honestly starting to be afraid of what it would cost. Nothing came for free, a lesson she had learned the hard way, but especially nothing from a demon. “Bee... darling...” She purred in a sticky sweet tone, a good imitation of his. “You can promise me the world, but I can’t accept anything without knowing the price I have to pay.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

His slit eyes glowed brighter for a moment and his fangs seemed to elongate at her eager questioning. Small billows of green smoke swept across the ground like fog and the sun was banished behind clouds, all in an instant.

And with that, he struck.

“Marry me, Lydia.”


	10. Chapter 10

She nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke until she noticed how serious he was. Wait... he wanted to marry her? “I never took you for the monogamy type of guy...” she trailed off, trying to find her answer. He hadn’t hurt her. Well... not in a way she didn’t want, at least. He spoiled her with whatever she wanted, never pushed past her limits. Not to mention he was ready to comfort her if she had a breakdown like that time in the showers. Even the memory of him holding her so tenderly caused a warmth to bloom in her chest. But she still wasn’t sure. She had always held some silly fairytale belief that if she did marry, it would be for love. Did he love her? He certainly cared, at the very least. He had sent Alex away because of her, had defended her violently multiple times, claimed her as his. Maybe it wasn’t some fairytale romance, but surely it was enough to be happy? “Alright,” she replied, none of the silly tears or excitement that most girls would have had in her tone. No, it was a soft acceptance that at the very least, she had someone who would care and protect her, and that was what she needed more than anything.

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He had a breath caught in his throat, unnecessary but causing a low-level burn of anticipation in his chest. He tried to soothe her worry, to explain the situation without making it seem cold and calculating. With her still clutched tight to his chest, her rested a hand on the side of her face and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “If I can marry a living person, if ya agree, I’m free, Lyds. Forever. They can’t cage me, take my powers, they can’t _fuckin’_ touch me.”

His forehead rested against hers, “Ya’d never be alone or defenseless. Even if I wasn’t there, just say my name three times and we can send whatever bastard was botherin’ ya straight to fucking hell. Ya’d be free, forever, too.”

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She couldn’t break the habit of leaning into his touch, her eyes fluttering slightly. “I only have one question...” she whispered. “No matter the answer, my answer stays the same. I’ll do it.” She closed her eyes softly as his forehead rested against hers, her voice catching on the tears trying to gather in her eyes. “Is this just another business deal?”

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He could’ve struck this deal before, earlier in his existence. Could’ve avoided past lock ups from Juno and the powers that be, but the cost was marriage for a reason. Demons, regular ones, didn’t do commitment. And he, himself, was the first entity born undead. He was the only being who could secure his powers _forever_. But he had so much power normally, that he was willing to sacrifice it (for just a century or so) every once in a while if it meant not swearing fuckin’ vows, for Christ’s sake.

He knew the answer. He wished he didn’t. But there it was. “No, Lyds.”

“Never wanted this, before. Never made tha offer. Just ta ya. Probably never gonna make it again, if ya say no.” Who else was he ever gonna feel something for? “Been around for thousands a’ years. Can’t find another of ya.”

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Now the tears came, a few sliding down her cheeks in contrast to the bright smile that graced her face. It was more than she ever could have hoped. “You don’t have to worry about me saying no.” She laughed a bit, gently wrapping her arms around him. “Yes. The answer is yes, more times than either of us could count.”

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His pupils returned to normal and his hair turned shock green, excitement sneaking into his expression. “Ya not fuckin’ with me? No bullshit??” He paused to hear her giggle tearfully and shake her head. “LYDS!” He snatched her up by her waist, kicked the table clear across the room, and spun her in a circle. Dropping her just low enough to crush her lips against his, he kissed her like she might disappear at any moment.

“Well what the fuck are we waiting for??” He shifted to hold her bridal style. “Whatcha want it ta look like, babes? Fuckin’ name it!”

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She laughed excitedly as he scooped her up and spun her through the air, his lips crashing against hers before she could even speak. Her hand gently came to rest against his cheek as she fell into the kiss, actually letting out a little whine when he pulled away. “I... I don’t know.” She giggled excitedly. “Anything you want. I haven’t exactly had the time to plan a wedding.” She teased, kissing his cheek, almost like she couldn’t keep her hands off of him.

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He playfully growled at how hands-on she was, pulling her so her back was against his chest and his arms were around her waist. “If ya wanna know what I really want, we ain’t gettin’ outta here for another week,” he nestled her ass against his groin, letting her feel how hard he was.

A love bite or two later and he followed it up with, “Let’s see—”

A snap—she was decked out in a blood red, ridiculously opulent, satin and tulle wedding dress.

A flick of the wrist — he was dressed head to toe in a maroon-ish velvet tux (he’d never looked at wedding catalogs, fuckin’ sue him).

A spinning hand — he had a dying bouquet of bleeding hearts for her in one hand and her mother’s locket in the other. “Wanna turn around for me, princess?”

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Everything seemed to happen so fast that it left her head spinning. One minute she had his arms around her, his rock-hard cock pressing into her, and the next she was in the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. She gently ran her fingers over the skirt, feeling the luxurious satin against her skin. “Wow... Bee, I—” She was cut off by the sight of him. She had never really seen him in anything other than his stripes. It brought a smile to her face as she stepped forward, gently taking the flowers. “Fitting.” She joked, noticing they were dead. An unusual bouquet for an unusual wedding. “Turn around? Why would I… ?” She noticed the flash of silver in his other hand, her eyes widening. “You remembered,” she whispered, her expression softening. She couldn’t put into words how touched she was that he would think to include something that meant so much to her. She turned, pulling her hair out of the way so he could fasten the chain around her neck.

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His smile stretched ear to ear as he draped the necklace around her throat, then clipped it in place.

He turned her head to kiss him over her shoulder, before leaning back with a grin. “All right, let’s get this show on the road!” With a well-aimed smack to her ass, he winked and snapped his fingers.

A zombie priest and two ghosts (who may have died in a blaze of gunfire? Is that what those wounds were?) as witnesses were yanked into the upper world at his bidding.

Holding out one arm for her, he shot a finder gun at the priest, “This gorgeous lil’ doll n’ I are getting hitched and _then_ ” —cue a vague hand gesture— “y’all can get on with ya afterlives.”

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She gently placed her hand over the locket. She couldn’t have her mother here, but it was the next best thing. She followed his motions, turning her head to kiss him again, finding that she could never get tired of his lips against hers. She giggled a bit from him smacking her ass, giving a playfully light kick to the side of his calf, not even enough to sting. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding? We’re breaking all the rules.” She teased. Within a moment her small cell was crowded with three more souls. She nodded politely to all of them, wrapping her arm through that of her soon-to-be-husband and smiling up at him. Part of her wondered if this was all some wonderful dream she would wake from.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He laughed at her kick, “Yeah. ‘M sure that undead poltergeist marriages in penitentiaries usually have a strict code a’ conduct.”

Once the initial shock wore off and the priest realized just who had summoned him, he got right down to it. You didn’t fuck with Beetlejuice. A pointed look from said demon caused any frills to be cut from the ceremony, the vows were immediately up to bat.

“Beetlejuice, do you take— what was your name again dear?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She had to admit her surprise at the suddenness of the vows. No trappings, no niceties, just an ‘I do.’ “Uh... Lydia. Lydia Deetz.” She said quickly, though she supposed that would change soon. She squeezed his hand softly, looking up at him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He grinned down at her when she squeezed his hand, before nodding at the officiant to continue. “Do you take Lydia Deetz to be your lawfully wedded wife?” He shot her a wink, “Ya fuckin’ know I do.” He separated from her long enough to pull a ring out of thin air and slip it on her left hand. It was a silver band, whose etched designs matched those on her locket, with a large polished ruby in the center. The priest cleared his throat conspicuously at the profanity, but continued nonetheless, “Do you, Lydia, take Beetlejuice to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through her at his affirmation. This was really happening! She smiled brightly, her eyes lighting up at the thought. Her eyes widened at the sight of the ring, the details particularly touching. But she didn’t have one for him... She made a mental note to buy him one as soon as they were out. She held out her hand for him, watching the ring slide into place. It was perfect... She looked up at the sound of her name, a peaceful smile settling over her expression as she looked up at him. “No one else I’d rather tie myself to. I do.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He could feel it, in his undead demonic soul, his freedom, his untethered power returning. By the time the priest was declaring them man and wife, Beetlejuice had pulled her up to hang off of him like a monkey, her arms around his neck and her knees squeezing for balance on either side of him. He kissed her like they were alone, long and slow and with an egregious amount of tongue for a wedding.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She giggled excitedly when he pulled her up, allowing herself to get lost in the kiss. She nipped his lip lightly, allowing herself to be swept up in the moment.

“Hey... what do you say we get out of here?” She whispered teasingly, leaning her forehead against his. “Head out to that little cottage you promised? Have our wedding night?”

\----------------------------------------------------------

A growl emanated from low in his throat, “Youuuu got it babes!” With a grunt he shoved his hand downward and the three guest souls sunk into the ground. He let go with the other arm as well, “Hang on tight, kiddo, we’re about to _blow this joint_.”

With twin snaps, the walls of the prison around the cells crumbled into pieces, the sky went dark and lightning touched down all across the landscape.

With a burst like a rocket, they sailed through the air and, the next moment, they were sitting in a cafe in Paris. “HOLY SHIT, we’re fuckin’ free!” He seemed almost delirious, gleeful, and full of manic energy.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She giggled excitedly, wrapping her legs around him fully and clinging to him tightly, feeling a bit like a hormone-ridden koala. But it was hard not to be overjoyed! His intoxication was practically contagious. She felt like she could breathe again when the prison crumbled to dust around them. They were out. They were free! Actually fucking free! A whoop of excitement filled the air as they shot upwards. But unfortunately, it was all over far too soon, the two of them seated in a demure little cafe. “We’re out. Really and truly out!” She giggled happily, like she couldn’t believe it.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He pulled her out into the street without a second thought, running pell-mell like a child on a sugar rush, “Sorry Lyds, thought ya might wanna pick the place out yaself so I just shot us anywhere for now!” He screeched to a halt as a new whim whipped through him, raising his hand and twirling her away and back into his chest.

“How’s France for lunch? These bastards let ya eat snails without a second thought, but snacking on a _beetle_ is gross, okay then—”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She giggled, running after him. She could barely keep up with him, stumbling along down the street. When he stopped so suddenly, she nearly fell over, grabbing onto him for balance. “Lunch sounds fine.” She giggled. “But don’t expect me to eat the snails too. I’ll stick to something a little less... well... less leggy.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He gasped in actual shock, “Lyds, no! That’s it, I’m gonna getcha ta try chocolate-covered ants. ‘S final!” He pulled her into a quick kiss, before continuing to spitball, “Ya wanna go to Thailand? Fried crickets? The Dutch make friggin’ chocolate WITH bugs!”

\----------------------------------------------------------

She giggled again, just on cloud nine after everything that had happened in the last hour or so. “Fine, I’ll try one.” She kissed him quickly. “But only one! Then I want to find our little cottage.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He cackled, spinning her through the air again, reveling in everything she’d given him. The totality of his power, his unshackled state, someone to _run wild with_. With nothing more than a thought, they were on a California beach boardwalk and he was ordering a bag of chocolate covered bugs. He slung an arm around her as they walked along, smiling evilly as he offered her one, “Ya gonna have one bite and never go back, babes.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

It would take time, she realized, to get used to the way he flashed them around. The sudden blinding light of California sun in her eyes was disorienting. By the time she adjusted there was a chocolate covered bug in her face, causing her to wrinkle her nose in playful disgust. “Just for this, I want an extra cozy reading nook.” She teased, reluctantly taking the ‘food’ and popping it in her mouth.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Noticing how she shielded her eyes from the sun and also that they were still in their garish wedding outfits, he pulled her into a little alcove between beach shops. With a snap, he was back in his signature strips and she was in a breezy little black sundress complete with a black lace parasol.

“God, Lyds, I’ll tell ya what, it is fun as _hell_ ta dress ya up like a lil’ doll,” he said, smiling at his handiwork.

He straight up clapped with glee when she ate the chocolate covered cricket, waiting excitedly for her reaction.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She giggled softly, looking down at her new outfit. “If it makes you happy, I don’t have a problem with it. I can be your little doll.” She purred, wrapping her arms around him. She frowned, thinking about the way it tasted. Thankfully it was mostly covered in chocolate so she didn’t taste much, but she wasn’t happy about the way it seemed to fall apart when she bit down, swearing she felt like a leg got caught in her throat. She coughed a few times to dislodge it, shaking her head. “You can keep that to yourself, dear.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

He growled and nipped the air teasingly, “Well, ain’t I a lucky sunofabitch, ‘cause I am _lovin’_ this view.” Making no attempt to hide his blatant eye fucking, he leaned back far enough in her embrace where he could get an eyeful of how low the sundress dipped.

Bursting into laughter at her facial expression, he agreed, “Eh, more for me, I guess.”

He calmed down enough from his initial rush at behind released to pull her into a long kiss, backing her up against a wall, parasol and bug bag forgotten on the ground. “So ya wanna get that cottage first thing, huh? No partyin’ in Vegas first?” He joked as she pulled back to breathe.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She chuckled, letting him enjoy the view without complaint. After all, he _was_ her husband now. Might as well let him have his fun. She giggled when he backed her against the wall, kissing him leisurely. This was something she hadn’t thought would ever be possible for her again... to be out in the sunlight, the hustle and bustle of daily life sounding around her as she was showered with affection by the one she loved. Yes... love. She wasn’t afraid of the word anymore. She gently leaned her forehead against his, smiling sweetly. “I’m not much of a Vegas kind of girl.” She teased, gently toying with his tie. “Besides...” she leaned in, kissing him slowly and whispering against his lips, “I could scream a lot louder in our little cabin.”

\----------------------------------------------------------

As soon as she got those words out, his lips were back on hers, starving for a taste of her, biting her bottom lip, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He moved to suck a few new hickeys over the slightly fading ones from the night before. “Let me use a ballgag on ya and we can fuck right here, babygirl...” one hand fisted in her hair and the other was slipping up her thigh, underneath her skirt.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She kissed him deeply, practically purring at the way he pulled her hair back. “Bee...” she whimpered, her thigh shaking softly beneath his touch. She wasn’t opposed to the thought, but for some reason a chill went through her at the moment. “Not here...” she whispered, that fear threatening to creep into her eyes. She didn’t feel safe here... She needed a place to feel safe, a place she knew was their own.

\----------------------------------------------------------

She was shivering and gasping at his touch, when he’d barely gotten started. Shit, she was perfect. He nodded, ready to do whatever she said— which _holy fuck_ since when was _that_ a thing for him?? — stealing a final kiss and running his forefinger along the damp crease of her pussy lips before withdrawing his hands. Had he forgotten to give her a bra or panties?

Oh no. What an oversight.

\----------------------------------------------------------

“Bee, please.” She whispered quietly, pulling back from the kiss. “I can’t... not out in the open. It... I can feel it trying to come back. Can’t we at least get a hotel room?” She asked sweetly, trying to get him to hear what she was saying without upsetting him.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He grinned at her devilishly, “Ya know what I told ya babe, _whatever ya want_.” A few kisses were spread across the back of her hands before he handed her parasol to her and picked up his bag. He held out his arm in an invitation. “Ready ta go, babes?”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos or a comment! We love the support.


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